"Trou  ?rou" 


Augustin  Daly 


V 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


NO.  CGCLIX 

FRENCH'S  STANDARD  DRAMA. 


FROU   FROU;" 


A  Play  of  Powerful  Huma^i  Interest, 


BY    AUGUSTIN    DALY,    ESQ., 


AUTHOh   OF 

the  Gaslight,"  "Flash  of  Lightning,"  " Leah  the  Forsaken,"  "  Griffith 
Gaunt,"  "Taming  a  Butterfly,"  &c.,  &c. 


:  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1870,  by  AUGUSXIN  DAL.T, 
in  Out  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Unit'd  State*, 
for  the  Southern  District  of  Ntiv  Tor}' 

\  COPYRIGHT,  1897,  BY  AUGUSTIN  DALY. 


NEW  YORK 
5AMUEL  FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

WEST  38TH  STREET 


LONDON 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  LTD. 

26  SOUTHAMPTON  STREET, 

STRAND 


CAST  OF  CHARACTERS.—  [FHOU  FBOU.] 
At  origirully  produced  at  the  Fifth  Avenue  Theater,  Tuesday,  Feb.  l&th,  1870 

HKNBI  SARTOR  YS,  (The  Husband  of  the  Future)  ____  Mr.  George  Clark*. 
BRIQARD,  (A  Papa  of  tlie  Present)  ..............  Mr.  W  .  Daridge. 

COMTE  D*  VALREAS,  |  ^  "  S^  °f  "*  \  Mr.  G.  Parks. 
BARON  D«  CAMBRI,  (The  Husband  of  the  Future)  .  .Mr.  James  Lewis. 


VINCENT,  ..................................  Mr.  George  Jordan,  Jr. 

ZANETTO,  (.4  Sunny  Italian)  ..................  Mr.  W  .  Bcekman. 

GILBERTE,  ["  Frou  Frou  ")     .................  Miss  Agnes  Ethel. 

LOUISE,  (Her  Sister.)  ........................  Miss  Kate  Newton. 

BARONNX  DE  CAMBRI,  (A  Woman  of  the  Future).  .Mrs.  G.  H.  Gilbert. 
PAULINE,  (A  Maid  of  the  Present)  ..............  Miss  Fanny  Davenport. 

THE  GOVERNESS,  ............................  Miss  Emilie  Kiehl. 

A>GELIQUE,  ................................  Miss  Amy  Amea. 


<h«o*  {  *""»'«£  A^'~    H.  Gert7  Norwood. 


TIME.— The  Present. 

SCENE— Act  1st  at  Charmarettes.  Act  2,  3  and  6  in  Paris.  Act  4— 
Venice.  Lapse  of  four  years  between  the  1st  and  2d  Acts,  and 
a  few  weeks  between  the  2d  and  3d  and  3d  and  4th.  After  th« 
4th  Act,  oix  mouths  elapse. 


rs 


FKOU  FKOU. 


c/>  ACT    I. 

m 

iCENE. — Drigard's  house  at  Charmarettes.  Parlor  of  the  Chateau  tpenmg 
on  the  terrace  by  three  arches  which  cross  the  stage  at  back  from  n.  2,  E.  to 
L.  4  X.  A  table  between  each  arch  occupied  with  bronzes,  flowers,  tie.  A 
pedestal  with  a  t*ise  of  flowers,  a  table  and  a  sofa  on  the  L. 

PAULINE  is  discovered  as  the  curtain  rises,  to  merry  music,  arranging  a  bouquet 
in  the  vase  at  L.     The  noise  of  a  whip  is  heard  and  she  turns  and  looks  off 
§i        B.  through  the  arc.W 

{£}         Pauline  Who's  coming  now  ?    [Goes  to  the  arches  and  looks  off.}    Why, 
>.    If  it  isn't  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  and  that  charming  M.  de  Valreas. 
ze    What  on  earth  can  le  the  matter  that  they  are  galloping  in  that 
way?    Ah,  Monsieur  might  have  spared  his  horse.     Mademoiselle 
always  comes  in  first.     Now  he's  assisting  her  to  dismount.     They 
.   are  coming  here !     [She  runs  to  the  vase  of  flowers  again.]     How  long 
?   they  are !     [Turns.]     Mademoiselle  must  have  gone  to  her  room 
direct.     [Returns  to  arci\  c.]     That's  certain,  for  here  comes  M.  de 
•j    Valreas  alone.     How  gi  acefully  he  bears  defeat. 

Enter  VALREAS,  R.  c.  looking  back. 

Valrtat  Beaten  again !  [Sees  PALLINE.""  You  there !  You  aee, 
Pauline,  your  handsome  mistress  and  I  have  had  another  race. 

Pan  I  Laughing.]  And  my  handsome  mistress  come  in  ahead. 

Val  As  usual !  [Throws  hat  and  whip  on  sofa.}  Yes,  I  acknowledgt 
F«u  beaten,  and  wtui'l  more,  Pauline,  I  don't  regret  it. 

fa»  [Coming  do»,\  «  c.]  You  don't!    Why  not? 


451881 


I  FROU  FROU. 

VcH  Because  it's  infinitely  more  agreeable  to  gallop  behind  than 
before  her.  She  has  such  an  adorable  way  of  sitting  a  horse— and 
to  see  her — ah,  delicious  little  Frou  Frou !  [Grosses  to  L.  H. 

Pau  What,  Monsieur?  You  call  her  by  that  familiar  name? 
Mademoiselle  Gilberte  would  be  very  angry  if  she  heard  you  call  her 
Frou  Frou. 

Val  Why,  it's  her  name. 

Pau  It's  her  name  for  her  father  and  her  sister,  but  for  you— 

Val  For  me  too !  What  name  could  I  give  her,  indeed,  ;uore 
appropriate  than  that  which  seems  to  have  been  invented  for  the 
delicious  little  creature  who  bears  it  ?  What  else  is  she  but  Frou 
Frou?  A  noisy,  bustling,  busy  little  fairy — ever  rustling,  rustling, 
like  the  leaves  stirred  by  a  gentle  wind.  Frou  Frou,  always  ;  Frou 
Krou,  everywhere !  In  the  house  a  do:T  opens  and  down  the  stairs 
romes  a  rustle  of  skirts  like  a  whirlwind.  Frou  Frou,  Frou  Frou! 
I  Imitating  rustle  of  silk.]  She  bounds  into  the  room  with  a  joyous  burst ! 
(Tie  runs  here  and  there  —rummages  about,  disarranges  everything — 
ifowns.  laughs,  talks,  sings,  plays,  jumps,  and  whisks  away  again. 
Frou  Frou,  Frou  Frou,  always  Frou  Frou !  And  I  am  sure,  that 
while  she  sleeps,  the  angel  that  watches  over  her  waves  its  rustling 
wings  with  that  dear  little  sound,  Frou  Frou !  [Crosses  R. 

Pau  Oh,  indeed  !  [Looking  offi.]  Well,  you'd  better  stop  and  be 
proper,  for  her  father  is  just  dismounting  at  the  gate. 

Val  So  I  will,  for  I've  something  to  say  to  him  so  prodigiously 
serious,  so  prodigiously  proper,  in  fact,  [Laughing]  that  I  don't 
know  how  to  begin. 

Pau  Something  to  say  to  Mademoiselle  Gilberte's  father? 

Val  Yes,  to  him,  and  then  to  her.  Pauline,  you  are  a  young  girl 
and  you  know  what  love  is,  don't  you  ? 

Pan  Ob,  I  ve  had  an  ordinary  education,  sir,  and  love  is  one  of  the 
primary  studios  for  girls. 

Val  Of  course  it  is.     It's  addition  isn't  it?    Or  is  it  multiplicaton? 

Pau  Yes,  sir — two  and  two  make  one. 

Val  Well,  then,  you  can  appreciate  my  feelings  when  I  tell  you 
that  I  adore  her— I  have  adored  her  ever  since— 

fin  Two  days  ago,  going  on  three !  Here  comes  M.  Brigard,  sir  ; 
you'd  better  finish  your  declaration  to  him.  Crosses  to  B. 

Enter  BBIGABD  with  BABOXESS,  in  riding  habit,  c.  from  I- 

Brigard  [c.]  Hallo,  Valreas,  what  did  you  and  Guoerte  mean  Dj 
running  off  and  leaving  us  two  alone  to  follow  you  ?  But  then  [Look 
ing  at  BARONESS  irith  a  look  of  gallantry  ]  I  don't  complain  ! 

B'ness  [L.  c.]  Well  it  would  be  strange  if  you  did. 

[Sits  on  sofa  and  fans  lierself  with  paper  that  »'s  lying  there. 

Val  [R.  c.  ]  Why,  it  was  a  wager  between  Mademoiselle  Gilberto 
and  me  as  to  which  should  get  here  first,  and  when  we  did,  she  went 
to  her  room  *o  dress  for  dinner  while  I  waited  for  you. 


FROU  FROU  8 

Brig  And  amused  yourself  talking  to  the  maid  about  aer.  f«ul- 
ine,  what's  he  been  saying/ 

Pau  [R.  n.  corner.]  Saying,  sir  ?  [VALBEAS  notion*  her  to  stop 

Brig  [Sitting  c.]  Yes,  saying. 

Pau  He  called  Mademoiselle  Gilberte  Frou  Frou,  and  asked  if  eh« 
bad  a  heart. 

Brig  [Prc'.en^ing  seriaujnexs.]  What? 

Val  I  didn't  say  anything. 

Brig  [To  PAULINE.]  That'll  do.  Go  to  Gilberte!  [Exit  PACUXB, 
H.  1  E.]  So  you've  been  trying  to  find  out  whether  Gilberte  has  a 
heart,  eh  ?  [Looks  at  BARONESS  and  pauses.]  Weft,  I'll  talk  to  yoo 
presently  ;  I  must  go  and  dncss,  and  mind,  before  I  come  back,  don't 
make  anatomical  investigations  through  any  of  the  other  servants. 

[Exits  R.  1  K. 

Val  [Following  him  to  the  door .]  Well,  it's  no  harm,  everyone  has  a 
heart.  I  didn't  ask  about  her  fortune  or  anything  else  that  was 
mean. 

B'ness  Oh,  Valreas!     Valreas  ! 

Val  [Assuming  air  of  gallantry.]     Well,  what  have  I  done  now  ? 

[Crosses  to  c. 

B'ness  [Looting  at  Mm  through  eye-glass.]  I  have  known  you  for  foul 
years  now,  and  if  I  were  called  upon  to  say  what  you  are,  I  should 
be  puzzled  for  an  answer. 

Val  [Making  a  gesture  of  surprise.]     What /am? 

B'ness  Yes,  what  you  are. 

Val  [Approaching  her.]  I  am  only  a  poor  devil  who  is  dying  of  love 
for  you. 

B'ness  Yes,  I  know-  you've  said  that  for  four  years  and  I  see  you 
are  alive  yet. 

Val  For  four  years  and  no  intermission  for  refreshments. 

B'ness  Nonsense  !  you've  been  here  two  days  and,  during  that  time 
you've  done  nothing  but  make  lovu  to  little  Gilbtirte. 

Val  [Sitting  beside  her.]  Don't  you  see  that  was  only  a  little 
maneuver  of  mine  ? 

B'ness  To  make  me  jealous? 

Val  Yes. 

B'ness  But  how  about  that  widow  ? 

Val  Widow?     What  widow?  * 

B'ness  Who  is  dying  of  love  for  you,  who  is  determined  to  get  • 
husband  and  who  has  followed  you  from  Paris  down  to  this  place. 
Don't  deny  it.  I  know. 

Val  You  know?     [BARONESS  nods  yes.]     Who  told  you? 

B'ness  Aha !  [Rises  and  cresses  a. 

Val  [Aside.]  It's  that  rogue  Brigard !  [Rising.]  Ah,  I  see  you 
won  t  believe  iu  the  deep  ardor  of  my  affection.  You  won' t. 

B  ress  [Meeting  him  c.]  No  I  won't. 
Val  Decidedly? 

B'ness  Decidedly ! 

Val  Then  I'm  perfectly  right  in  lavishing  the  ardor  of  my  affeo- 


6  FROTT  FROTJ. 

tion  <>u  Brigard'd  little  daughter.     Aud  you  know  what  the  oonfle 
quetifcs  will  be  ? 

B'nexs  [/A  JtappJM.]  The  consequences  ? 

V<>1  Yes !— a  wedding. 

Ifiiess  What?     You  marry?     [VALREAS  nods.]      You  marry? 

Vat  Certainly !  Won't  she  make  a  delicious  little  countess? — and 
the  day  we  are  married,  what  a  gay,  delightful,  happy,  joyous  wed 
ding  we  will  have — with  — 

B' Hess  With  music  by  Offenbach? 

Val  well,  why  not  ?  And  then  there  are  typographical  and  geo 
graphical  reasons  why  we  should  marry.  [Goes  up  to  c.  arcli.]  There 
on  the  rigiit,  is  the  chateau  of  our  friend  Sartorys;  at  the  left, 
yonder,  mine  ;  anl  this  one  we  arc  in  makes  a  tliird,  which  my  friend 
Brigird  bought  two  years  ago.  Doesn't  it  strike  you  as  odd  now,  aa 
a  sort  of  destmy,  that  Brigard,  with  his  two  marriageable  daughters, 
shoull  com-j  and  settle  here,  between  two  bachelors — Sartorys  and 
myself? 

B'rtets  It's  quite  delightful  to  hear  you,  I  declare. 

[Returns  to  sofa. 

Val  jc.l  You  must  acknowledge  that  Providence  never  more  clearly 
manifested  its  intentions.  Neither  Sartorys  nor  I  will  oppose  fate. 
First  mairiage,  Md'lle  Louise  Brigard  and  Mon.  Henri  Sartorys; 
music  by  Haydn,  solemn,  grand ;  a  union  of  wisdom  and  reason. 
Second  marriage,  Md'lle  Gilberte  and  your  humble  servant ;  a  union 
of  just  the  opposite. 

fi'nest  How  do  you  know,  sir,  that  M.  Sartorys  loves  Louise  and 
wishes  to  marry  her  ? 

Val  How  do  I  know  ?  Why  has  he  who  never  before  spent  a  fort 
night  down  at  his  chateau,  now  remained  here — let  me  see — more 
than  two  months  ?  Why,  unless  he  wishes  to  marry  her,  does  he 
come  here  every  day  ? 

B'ness  [Ruing.]  Well,  that's  something. 

Val  [Crossing  t.]  And  then  he's  so  well  suited  to  her.  EU's  so 
quiet  and  she's  so  quiet. 

B'ness  [c.]  But  suppose  that— 

Val  [Coin j  to  her  quickly.]  What? 

Enter  BARON  DE  CAMBRI,  L.  c  ,  carrying  a  tin  loz,  such  as  Botanists  collect 
iheir  Iterla  in,  on  his  shoulder.      Wears  a  wide,  »*hite  hat. 

B'ness  [Quietly.}  Nothing. 

Baron  Here  I  am,  my  dear. 

Val  Ah !  good  raorcin^,  Baron.  What  bave  you  brought  bock 
from  your  early  botanical  excursion  ? 

Baron  Weil,  not  much  luck  to-day.  [To  BARONESS.]  Here,  my 
love,  is  something  which  I  selected  for  you.  [Offering  an  insignificant 
black  fiou-er.]  Ugly,  but  very  rare.  I  dug  it  out  of  a  mud-bank,  my 
darling:,  at  the  risk  of  my  life. 

B'trtis  Dug  it  out  of  a  mud-bank  for  me  ?  Really,  you  are  too  good 
I  don't  care  to  rob  the  mud-bunk. 


FEOU  FROU.  T 

Boron  But,  my  dear,  you  don't  know  what  this  is— it  is  ihe  far- 
famed  Achyrophorous  Calendula  Borkorsia  Alpina. 

Val  What? 

Baron  The  far-famed  Achyrophorous  Calendula  Borkorsia  Alpina. 

B'ness  I  don't  care  what  it  is.  What  have  I  told  y:ra,  sir,  re 
peatedly  ? 

Baron  Told  me,  my  an<?el  ? 

B'ness  Havn't  I  forbidden  you  ever  to  appear  before  me  with  that 
abominable  tin  box,  and  those  dirty  rocks  and  rubbish  ? 

Baron  Certainly,  my  love.  You  have  told  me  in  the  most  positive 
manner.  I  will  go  and  put  the  dirty  rocks  and  rubbish  in  the  next 
room  and  return  immediately.  [Exits  i.  u.  B. 

Val  [  Watching  his  exit  and  then  quickly.}  Come,  Baroness,  you  were 
al>out  to  say,  just  now — 

B'ness  {Crossing  L.]  I?    When? 

Val  When  I  spoke  of  a  marriage  between  Louise  and  Sartorys — 

B'ness  Oh,  yes,  I  remember.  I  was  about  to  say  that  it  is  evident 
you  are  in  love  with  Gilberte,  even  if  he  be  not  with  Louise.  But  I 
must  go  dress  for  dinner. 

{Curtseys  elaborately  and  exits  L.  1 .  B.  laughing. 

Val  [Taking  the  stage  to  R.]  Certanly  I  am  in  love. 

Re-enter  BARON  unthout  box. 

Baron  You  see,  my  love,  that  it  is  only  necessary  for  you  to 
express  a  desire  for  to — 

[Sees,  for  the  first  time,  that  the  BARONESS  has  departed. 

Val  She's  gone,  Baron.  [Sits  R.  beside  table. 

Baron  Gone,  eh  !  well  that's  just  like  her.  It's  the  Baroness  all  over. 
You  enter  the  room — "Go  out"  she  says,  "and  don't  return  until 
you  have  done  this  or  that  for  penance."  "  You  go  out,  you  submit. 
You  come  back  only  to  find  that  she's  gone  out  herself  and  there 
are  you,  as  it  were,  completely  wrung  out.  That's  my  wife. 

Val  Ah !   indeed  ! 

Baron  Don't  sit  there  and  say  "ah!  indeed!"  in  that  way.  You 
know  it  as  well  as  I  do. 

Val  Who?  I? 

Baron  Oh,  yes !  you,  and  a  good  many  others.  [VALRKAS  leant 
forward.']  You  are  not  the  only  one  who  has  been  trying  to  make 
love  to  her.  [VALREAS  draws  back.]  Oh,  I've  had  my  eye  on  all 
your  maneuvers. 

Val  [Laughs.]  What  an  interesting  subject  of  contemplation. 

Karon  Oh,  yes!  I've  watched  you  all  and  I've  pitied  you.  VAV 
EEAS  becomes  serious  and  angry  ]  Oh !  I  could  tell  you  some  of  the 
drollest  things  about  the  other  poor  devils.  [Laughs  andthen  suddenly.'] 
But  it  would  take  too  long.  Let's  speak  of  you  alone  Now,  for  in- 
•tance — 

Val  [Assuming  virtuous  air.]  Me!     Never!  never! 

Barnn  Oh,  yes,  you  !  You  have  tried  three  times  to  make  love  to 
my  wife  The  first  attemot.  as  was  natural,  the  day  after  that  on 


8  FROU  FEOTJ. 

which  Untroduced  you  to  her.  The  second— two  years  nfterwaidi 
at  the  races.  You  remember,  you  rode  a  yellow  horse  tLere,  as  an 
amateur  jockey,  and  you  thought  that  by  exhibiting  yourself  in  an 
orange-colored  jacket  without  any  tails,  and  on  a  yellow  horse,  you 
could  make  an  impression,  ha !  ha !  Well,  the  Baroness  and  I  had  a 
good  laugh  over  you  that  day.  The  third  attempt,  you  have  made 
here  in  this  house.  [VALREAS  utirts.]  And  it  was  because  rour  third 
attempt  was  as  unfortunate  as  the  two  first  that  you  have  commenced 
to  adore  little  Frou  Frou. 

Val  Pooh !     You'  ve  been  dreaming. 

Baron  Oh,  you're  ri^ht  to  give  up  the  idea.  The  Baroness  is  not 
the  woman  to  be  made  love  to.  Her  temper  is — is — so — so — well, 
it's  tremendously  unpleasant  for  me,  but  it  reassures  me  as  to  every 
other  man.  [Rising. 

Val  [Rising.]  I  congratulate. 

Barm  Oh!  you  needn't  be  sarcastic.  T  don't  mind  your  temper, 
any  more  than  your  love  making  [Crosses  to  L.]  It's  no  go,  my 
dear  boy,  it's  no  go ;  BO  don't  waste  any  more  time  over  it. 

[Saunter*  o/,  L.  1  B. 

Enter  BRIGARD,  R.  1  B.,  dressed  for  dinner. 

Brig  Hallo,  are  you  still  there  ? 

Val  Yes,  I  waited,  because  I  wished  to  speak  with  you. 

Brig  Well,  it's  about  time  we  had  a  little  serious  conversation. 

Val  I  really  believe  it  Ls. 

Brig  Gilberte  has  been  telling  me  that  while  you  were  riding  with 
her  this  morning,  you  began  to  talk  in  a  singular  manner  about 
hearts,  and  affections,  and  other  etceteras.  Now  what  have  you 
been  saying  to  her  ? 

Val  Nothing  thj.t  a  young  lady  could  not  listen  to. 

Brig  Oh !  you  think  so  do  you  ? 

Val  Certainly,  since  I  have  made  a  resolution  to  turn  over  a  new 
leaf  and  mako  amends  for  all  my  past  follies. 

Brig  What? 

Val  Yes,  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  marry. 

Brig  You  many  ? 

Val  Yes.  why  not  ?    I  was  never  more  serious. 

Brig  That's  not  saying  much.  Now  listen  to  me.  my  boy,  I  like 
you  very  much,  really,  very  much.  I've  been  about  town  with  you 
for  a  couple  of  years;  in  fact,  T  showed  you  life  when  you  first  cam 9 
to  Paris.  We've  had  jolly  times  together,  and  I  like  no  one  better 
than  you.  But  as  for  giving  you  my  daughter,  never,  as  long  as  1 
live,  friend  of  my  bosom. 

Val  Why  not?  I  would  make  her  perfectly  happy.  In  the  firel 
place,  she  wo  aid  be  a  countess. 

Bng  [Crojsinj  to  so/a,  T,.~|  Oh  !  that's  noticing. 

Val  Why  not  ? 

Brig  ^Pilt'ing  hix  hands  in  hi*  pockets  and  unintentionally  jingling  money.] 
Ton  know,  my  d«ar  fellow,  if  1  chose,  I  could  have  a  duke.  [Sits. 


FROU  FROU.  • 

Vat  Humph!  well  it's  rather  bud  t.i  te  to  jingle  your  mor/ey  in 
that  way  at  me. 

J.iri}i  Why,  I  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing,  especially  to  you, 
who  are  richer  than  I.  Besides,  I  take  it  all  back  about  the  duke. 

Val  [c.]  And  you  will  give  me  your  daughter? 

Brig  What !  my  little  Frou  Frou  ?  My  little  tempest  ?  My  little 
darling  ?  Most  certainly  [VALREAS  jumps  towards  him  as  BRIGARD  rises.] 
not! 

Val  [Nettled.']  Why  so,  since  you  like  me? 

Brtg  It's  precisely  because  I  do  like  you,  or  rather  on  account  of 
the  reasons  that  I  like  you.  You  see  ?  You  are  too  jolly  a  com 
panion  to  be  trusted  as  a  son-in-law  ?  Besides,  there's  that  widow 
who  is  after  you. 

Val  Devil  take  the  widow.  For  two  days  I  have  taken  refuge 
under  your  roof  to  avoid  her.  Doesn't  that  prove  there's  nothing 
serious  in  that  quarter  1 

Brig  Ah !  you  rogue.  You  can't  tell  me.  Widows  don't  run 
about  after  handsome  boys  like  you  without  encouragement. 

Val  But  I'm  determined  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  her,  to  be- 
tx>me  a  new  man.  I  really  believe  if  I  had  some  friend  who  would 
staud  by  me  now  I  might  become  worthy  of  existence  and  not  the 
cursed  nonentity  I  have  been. 

Brig  [Eying  him  closely.']  You  really  wish  then — 

Val  [Grasping  his  hand  warmly. ~\  Will  you  ? 

Brig  [Bursti  g  out  laughing.}  Oh,  anything  to  oblige  a  friend. 

Val  What  do  you  mean  t 

Brig  Oh !  nothing.     I'm  going  to  drive  the  widow  away. 

[Going  0. 

Val  That's  right,  and  when  you  return  I  will  address  you  formally 
with  my  request. 

Brig  [Stops .]  What  request  ? 

Vd  Why,  my  request  for  your  daughter,  of  course. 

Brig  What !  you'  ve  got  back  to  that  again,  have  you  ? 

Enter  LOUISE,  n.  1.  s. 

Ah  !  Louise,  you've  just  come  in  time.  [To  VALRBAS.]  Now  talk 
to  her  about  your  preposterous  ideas. 

Louise  [c.]  What  ideas? 

Brig  Come,  out  with  it. 

Val  [B.  c.]  Oh  !  you  needn't  try  to  frighten  me. 

Brig  [Returning,  takes  LOUISE'S  hand.]  It  is  perfectly  well  understood 
In  this  household,  that  in  this  little  brain  [Tapping  her  forehead.] 
dwells  all  the  wisdom  of  the  Brigard  family  ;  and* that  all  question* 
of  serious  import  must  be  referred  to  Louise. 

Louise  Well  ?  [Seriously. 

Val  Well,  I've  just  asked  of  your  father,  the  hand  of  Md'llfl 
Gilberte  in  marriage. 

Louise  The  hand  of  Gilberte  ?  [Surprised  and  ther  smiling. 

tral  [Seriously.]  What  do  you  answer,  Mademoiselle  ? 


10  FROU  FROU. 

Louise  [c.'J  My  answer  is,  that  if  you  do  not  make  haste  and  die* 
fcr  dinner,  the  same  thing  will  happen  to-day  that  occurred  yester 
day — you  will  be  late. 

Brig  [L.  c.]  There,  are  you  satisfied? 

Val  Very  well,  as  no  one  will  listen  to  me  seriously — 

Louise  [Grossing  L.]  Go  and  dress  for  dinner. 

Brig  [Aside  to  VALREAS.]  You  still  authorize  me  to  go  to  the 
widow. 

Val  [  With  dignity.}  Certainly,  sir. 

Brig  Then  I'm  going.  [Exits  o.  and  L. 

Luuist  [To  VALREAS.]  Havn't  you  gone  yet  ? 

I  shan't  go  until  you  tell  me  why  you  oppose  my  marrying  Gilberte. 

Louise  Well,  I  suppose  I  must,  or  you'll  never  be  ready. 

Enter  VINCENT,  L.  c. 
Vincent  Mon.  de  Sartorys. 

LOUISE  rises  and  turns  towards  c.  and  L.  as  if  icith  pleasure  as  SABTOBTI 
enters  o. ,  and  VINCENT  goes  out. 

Sartorys  Mademoiselle.  [Bows  to  LOUISE. 

Louise  Did  you  see  my  father  ? 

Sar  I've  just  met  him.    [To  VALREAS.]     I  hope  you  are  well,  Paul 

Val  [Mournfully.']  Very  well — that  is,  when  I  say  very  well — ah 
my  dear  friend,  if  you  only  knew  how  they  treat  me  in  this  house. 

Louise  [To  VALREAS.]  You'll  never  be  ready  for  dinner. 

Val  [To  LOUISE,  who  loolx  at  him,  laughing.}  I'm  going !     I'm  going 

[Exits  L.  1  E.  ,  sighing. 

Louise  [To  SARTORYS.]  How  late  you  are  to-day ! 

[Her  manner  must  evince  love  for  him  and  pleasure  in  his  company.     Sht 
motions  to  a  chair ;  they  sit.} 

Sar  [Seriously.]  I  suppose  I'm  late,  because  I  left  home  earlier  than 
usual.  [LOUISE  laughs.}  I'll  explain.  I  was  in  such  a  hurry  to  get 
here  that  I  started  from  the  Chateau  at  a  full  gallop :  but,  when  I 
got  within  a  hundred  paces  of  the  gate,  I  stopped,  turned  my  horse, 
and  for  a  whole  hour,  walked  him  about  the  neighborhood.  I  came 
back  to  the  gate  three  times  and  three  times  turned  away  again. 
The  fourth  time,  however,  I  did  like  all  cowards  when  they  make  up 
their  minds  to  be  brave.  I  plunged  in  head  foremost  and  here  I 
am  a  little  later  than  usual,  perhaps,  but  still,  here  I  a:n. 

Louise  [Who  has  followed  him  with  interest  and  laughingly,  but  now  b+ 
finning  to  show  her  emotion.]  What  was  the  cause  of  this  hesitation  ? 

Sar  It  is  because  I  have  decided  to  say  something  to-day  that  I 
have  wished  to  say  for  the  last  month.  That  is  the  reasoi  why  I 
trembled  all  the  way  hero  and  why  I  still — 

Louise  [Confused.]  If  what  you  have  to  say  is  so  very  seiicus— 
'  Sar  [Earnestly.]  It  is. 

Louise  [Moved.]  Perhaps  you  had  better  wait — 

Sar  Oli  no,  I  must  positively  go  through  with  it  to-day,  lienaes. 
before  i  speak  I  can  gain  courage  by  remembering  how  good  yoi 


FROU  FROU.  11 

bave  always  been  to  me.     And  then,  your  fathei  authorized  me  to— 

Louise  Oh  !  if  papa — 

Sar  He  did !  and  more  than  that,  fie  said  I  must  first  speak  to  you. 

Louise  [Deep  emotion.]  To  me  ! 

Sar  [Taking  her  hand.]  Have  you  not  guessed  ?    1  am  in  love. 

Louise  [Scarcely  audible.]  You  love  ! 

Sar  Yes !  I  love,  madly,  devotedly — your  sister  !  Gilberte ! 
)  LOUISE  as  if  petrified,  at  first  says  nothing,  simply  raises  her  eyes  to  SAB- 
TORY8,  then — 

Louise  Gilberte ! 

Sar  Did  you  not  suspect  it  ? 

LOWM  [Breathless.]  No. 

Bar  [  Without  looking  at  her  and  as  if  speaking  to  nimself.]  It  seemed  to 
me  as  if  everybody  must  have  noticed  it. 

Louise  You  love  my  sister  ? 

Sar  Yes,  and  that  is  why  I  appeal  to  that  friendship  which  you 
fcave  always  shown  me.  Tell  me,  then,  what  you  think  of  this 
avowal  which  I  have  just  made?  [Pause.]  You  do  not  answer. 

Louise  I  understand  you  perfectly.  You  love  Gilberle  and  you  ask 
me — 

Sar  If  you  approve  of  this  marriage. 

Louise  [Crossing  before  him.]  I  approve — I  approve  of  it. 

Sar  [Rising.]  You  will  be  on  my  side  then  ? 

Louise  Yes,  for  1  know  of  no  man  more  worthy,  no  one  who  could — 
better  than  you  — 

Sar  [Interrupting  her  a;id  taking  her  hand,  which  she  withdraws  in  pain.] 
Thank  you,  Louise,  thank  you. 

Louise  [Slowly  and  looking  at  him  with  a  melancholy  smile.]  At  first  I 
was  surprised,  you  understand  ?  It  is  necessary,  you  know,  to  be 
come  accustomed  to  an  idea.  And  now — I  am  so.  [This  said  after  a 
ttruggle  with  her  own  emotions,  which  she  conceals  from  SARTORYS.]  You 
are  just  the  husband  I  would  have  chosen  for  her,  for  I  have  often 
thought  of  Gilberte' s  marriage,  and  sometimes  with  fear.  Her  wil- 
fulness  and  frivolity  have  made  me  tremble  for  the  future 

[Sits  on  sofa. 

Sar  Ah! 

Louise  And  I  have  never  thought  until  this  moment,  that  in  order 
to  save  her  from  any  danger,  it  was  only  necessary  to  give  her  to  a 
man  like  you. 

Sar  Do  not  let  us  blame  what  you  call  her  frivolity,  for  I  confess  to 
f  ou  it  is  a  little  on  account  of  that  I  love  her.  Still,  if  you  think  it 
best,  I  will  try  to  teach  her — but  by  degrees — 

Louise  How  much  you  love  her ! 

Sar  Yes. 

Louise  But  why  did  you  come  to  me  ? 

Sar  Because  your  father  told  me  it  was  you  I  must  speak  to— 

Louise  Well,  you  have  spoken  to  me  and  I  have  answered  you 
and  now,  [SAKTORYS  sits  betide  her.]  what  more? 

Sar  You — you  w'll  spoak  to  her,  to  Gilberte  for  oe  f 
Lauist  II 


12  FROU  FKOU. 

Szr  It  I  tried  to  speak  myself,  the  same  thing  w  juld  happen  that 
happened  a  while  ago,  I  should  go  wandering  wildly  about,  afraid  to 
come  boldly  up  to  the  gate — I  mean  the  point.  Or,  if  I  did  speak, 
what  I  would  Kay  might  be  more  disastrous  than  my  silence.  Sh« 
might  laugh,  and  then — I  prefer  that  you  should  speak  to  her.  Tell 
her  all  the  good  you  can  of  me,  and  even  a  little  more — that  will  do 
no  harm.  But,  I  beg  of  you,  don't  say  that  my  character  is  serious 
or  severe  ;  there  is  the  greatest  danger.  Tell  her  that,  in  spite  of  my 
appearing  quiet,  and  grave,  and  awkward,  that  I  love  her  as  madly 
as  any  of  the  young  fellows  who  surround  her.  [Rising.]  Oh !  it 
you  only  knew  how  I  have  envied  \  alreas,  who  can  make  love  to  a 
dozen  women,  one  after  the  other.  Tell  her,  above  all.  not  to  think 
me  stupid;  for,  by  an  unfortunate  fatality,  those  who  can  love  the 
most  are  always  the  ones  who  know  least  how  to  speak  of  love. 

Louise  [Rising]  Yes,  yes —I  promise. 

Sar  [c  1  You  will  speak  to  her?    When  ? 

Louise  [L.  c.]  As  soon  as  I  see  her.     In  a  few  minutes. 

Sar  [Agitated.]  In  a  few  minutes? 

Louise  Do  you  not  wish  me  to  ? 

Sar  Y  es,  but  not  while  I  am  here. 

Louise  Certainly  not !  But  what  will  you  do  while  I  am  pleading 
your  cause  ? 

Sar  I  will  go  out  there— in  the  park — and  walk  up  and  down.  I 
will  not  lose  sight  of  this  room.  [Jai/ously.]  If  the  answer  be  '  •  yes," 
you  will  have  but  a  sign  to  make  ;  if  it  be  "  no  " —  [Sadly. 

Louist  If  it  be  no  ? 

Sar  I  will  mount  my  horse  and  return  home. 

I/nuse  [Holding  out  her  hand.]  Without  a  farewell  ? 

Sar  Ah,  Louise!  all  my  life  hangs  on  yes  or  no.  [Listening  off  E. 
Music.]  dark  !  do  you  not  hear  her  ?  Her  footsteps  on  the  staircase? 
The  rustle  of  her  skirts  ? — 

Louise  Always  the  same  noisy  Frou  Frou. 

Sar  She  comes  like  a  little  tempest.  [Gets  R.  c.  8. 

Enter  GILBERTS  in  dinner  toilet,  like  a  whirlwind,  R.  1  E.  holding  a  bracelet 
in  her  hand. 

Gtt  [c.]  Louise,  fasten  me  this? 

Louise  What?  [SARTOR YS  gets  down  R.  gradually. 

GU  This  bracelet !  I  can't !  [Holds  out  her  left  arm  ;  LOUISE  fattens  tht 
bracelet.]  Good  gracious !  how  your  hand  trembles !  What  is  the 
matter  with  you  ?  [Seeing  SARTOHTS,  extends  ler  right  hand  to  him, 
LOUISE  still  retaining  the  left.]  Your  servant,  Mon.  Sartorys ! 

Stir  [Taking  her  hand.]  Mademoiselle.  [Sows. 

Gil  Why,  your  hand  trembles  too !  [SABTORTS  and  LOUISE  look  <A 
each  other,  each  holding  a  hand  of  GILBERTS  ]  What,  both  of  yoa  ? 
Why,  what's  going  on  here? 

Jiouise  [To  SARTORYS.]  Well,  sir,  since  it  is  impossible  for  you  to 
remain  quiet —  [Smilingly. 

Gil  [Knowingly.  ]  Oho  ! 

Lotuut  You  had  better  go  and  walk  about  a  little. 


FROU  FROU.  18 

Sar  Yes,  MademoSba.le,  I  nm  going— to  walk  about  a  little. 

[Exits  c.  and  L.  with  Last  gesture  to  LOUISB. 

Gil  And  now,  my  dear  sister,  [Tikinj  bot'i  her  liands}  let  ine  beg 
your  pardon  for  coming  in  so  abruptly  and  spoiling  your  tete-a-teuv 
But  why  did  be  go  away  ?  He  should  have  stayed  here  and  kept  quiet, 
and,  as  soon  as  1  saw  which  way  the  wind  blew,  I'd  have  gone  around 
the  room  as  if  1  was  looking  for  something,  anl  then— fizz  !  gone  out 
again  an  1  left  you  two  to  yourselves.  That's  the  way  to  manage  it. 
Yon  see  I  know. 

Louise  You  were  perfectly  right  in  coming,  Gilberte,  and  still  more 
so  to  stay.  It  was  of  you  we  were  talking. 

Gil  Of  me  ? 

Louise  Mon.  Sartorys  asks  for  your  hand. 

Gil  [Amazed.]  What  do  you  say? 

Louise  I  say  that  Moil.  Sartorys  has  asked  for  your  hand.  He  hat 
spoken  to  father  already,  and  he,  knowing  the  affection  I  have  for 
you,  my  dear  Gilberte,  advised  him  to  speak  to  me. 

Gil  My  hand  !    Sartovys !     Impossible !     You  must  be  mistaken. 

Louise  But  I  am  not  mistaken. 

Gil  Then  he  is  mistaken.     It  is  you  that  he  is  in  love  with. 

Louise  It  is  you. 

Gil  I? 

Ijouise  He  told  me  so,  and  begged  me  to  repeat  it  to  you,  and — 

Gil  Well! 

Louise  He  waits  f.jr  you*  answer. 

Gil  My  answer  !  Now?  Before  I've  time  to  take  breath!  And 
you  say  he  spoke  to  papa  about  it  ? 

Louise  Yes. 

Gil  And  papa  left  it  to  you  ? 

Louise  Father  could  not  give  the  answer,  it  is  you  alone. 

Gil  No,  no,  no,  no  !  It's  too  serious  for  me.  I  have  always  said, 
when  the  question  of  my  marriage  cime,  I  would  go  and  find  my 
sister  Louise,  who  is  so  good  and  so  wise,  and  I  would  beg  her — 

Louise  No,  Gilberte,  no. 

Gil  Yes,  yes!  I  do  as  papa  does— I  refer  it  t)  you.  You  must 
decide  for  me.  I  will  give  whatever  answer  you  advise  me. 

Louise  [  With  an  effort.}  In  that  case,  I  advise  jrou  to  answer — yes ! 

Gil  Louise,  have  you  reflected?— 

Louise  Yes.     Sartorys'  merit  is  universally  acknowledged. 

Gil  Oh,  I  know  he  has  merit,  a  great  deal  too  much,  perhaps. 

Louise  How  so  ? 

Gil  Louise,  sit  here  with  me.  [LOUISE  mi  sofa,  GILBEHTE  cliair.}  1 
am  going  to  spe  ik  serious  now.  Monsieur  Sartorys,  I  acknowledge, 
is  a  man  to  whom  it  is  almost  impossible  to  say  no.  Let  me  see — 
•what  do  they  s.iy  ho  will  yet  become  with  his  talents? 

Louise  Oh  !  minister  somewhere — an  ambassador. 

Gil  [Playfully.'}  And  I  would  be  an  ambassadress  !  That  would  be 
nice,  if  it  were  only  ia  i'ans.  [Seriously.}  Bat  if  I  do  him  justice,  I  must 
do  myself  the  same.  I  am  full  of  faults  ;  you  know  it  and  so  do  I, 
ami  it  seems  to  mo  that  these  faults  of  mine  are  the  very  ones  Sar- 


14  FEOU  FfcOtJ 

torys  should  (vish  in  a  wife  if  he  hoped  to  be  entirely  unhappy.  [Sht 
laughs,  LnrtSR  makes  a  gesture  of  disaffirmnnee.~\  Oh,  you  think  he  would 
cure  me?  I  am  sure  he  could  nut  1  have  always  been  spoilt — by 
papa  first,  tLea  by  you.  By  you  still  more  than  papa.  [LooiSE  maJ;et 
tame  gesture.]  Yes,  still  more.  And.  what  is  still  more,  I  am  posi 
tively  decided  to  remain  hopelessly  ill  of  those  faults  and  never  to  be 
cured,  for  I  am  perfectly  satisfied  with  myself  just  as  I  am.  If  I 
married  M.  de  Sartorys  we  would  have  such  battles. 

LouLe  lie  loves  you.  Gilberte. 

Gil  Are  you  very  sure? 

Louise  Did  you  not  see  a  little  while  ago  ? 

Gil  [A  pause;  she  reflects  \  And  so  it  is  1  he  loves.  [Laugfis.]  What 
a  funny  idea.  [Rises. 

Louise  [Animated  ;  rising.]  Is  it  nothing  to  be  loved  by  such  a  man  ? 
To  see  that  he  trembles  before  you  like  a  child  ?  [Still  more  animated.] 
It  seems  to  me  if  I  were  asked  who  is  it  I  love,  I  should  say  with 
pride  :  "  Look  for  the  man  who  is  superior  to  everyone  about  him — 
it  is  he." 

Gil  [Going  to  her  and  putting  her  arms  around  her  waist.]  Do  you  know 
one  thing,  sister  Louise  ? 

Louise  What  is  it  ? 

Gil    I  will  not  marry  Mon.  Sartorys. 

Louiv  Why  ? 

Gil  [Demurely.]  Because,  up  to  this  time,  I  thought  that  you  loved 
him  ;  and  now — I  am  sure  of  it. 

Louise  I? 

Gil  [Patting  LOUISK'S  cheek.]  Yes,  you. 

Louise  [Very  quietly.]  If  I  loved  him  I  would  not  advise  you  to 
marry  him. 

Gil  [Movinj  awTy  ]  Louise,  I'm  become  afraid  of  you.  I  believe 
you  are — first,  capable  of  sacrificing  yourself  for  me  and  then  of  being 
proud  of  the  sacrifice. 

Louise  [Going  to  GILBERTE  and  putting  her  arm  about  her  waist.]  Then, 
this  time,  little  sister,  you  are  wrong.  My  affection  for  you  is  cer 
tainly  very  great,  but,  however  great  it  might  be,  if  I  loved,  I  would 
not— 

[An  imperceptible  look  of  pain  passes  over  her  face,  not  seen  by  GILBERTE. 

Gil  [Doubtinjly,  end  looting  dozen.]  Do  you  speak  truly? 

Louise  [Gaily.]  Absolutely.  And  if  you  have  no  other  objection  to 
this  union — 

Gil  Objections !  Oh,  I've  plenty  of  them  ;  but  I  don't  know  whether 
they  amount  to  anything.  So  I  will  do  as  I  have  always  done — place 
myself  in  your  hands.  Must  I  say  yes,  or  no  ?  [LOUISE  about  to  speak.] 
Do  not  answer  too  quickly.  Be  serious  ;  and  before  answering,  think 
of  everything. 

Louise  I  have  thought  of  everything. 

Gil  And  you  believe — 

Louise  I  believe  that  Monsieur  ttartorys  will  be  too  happy  with 
for  you  not  to  be  always  happy  with  him. 

(til  [Smilmff.]  So  I  must  aiiswer  Yea  'I 


FEOU  FROU.  1C 

Lovise  [JRssingthcr.]  You  must  answer  Yes. 
Enter  BRIGARD,  L.  TJ.  R. 

Brig  Well,  have  you  spoken  to  her? 

Louise  [c.]  Yes. 

Brig  And  her  answer  ?  ' 

Louise  She  consents. 

Brig  [Kissing  GILBERTS.]  You  little  angel ! 

[LOUISE  goes  down  R.  H.  ,  just  prttmnrj  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  and  recovering 
immediately. ,] 

Gil  So  you  are  satisfied,  papa? 

Brig  I'm  delighted  !  And  now  I  can  give  that  young  rascal.  Val- 
reas,  a  categorical  answer. 

Gil  Answer  !  about  what  ? 

Brig  [Liughing.]  Why,  he  asked  for  your  hand,  too. 

Louise  [Turns,  laughing.']  So  he  did. 

Gil  [To  BRIG.]  And  that  makes  you  laugh?  [To  LOUISE.]  And 
you,  too  ?  Well,  it  is  very  probable  that  if  he  had  spoken  to  me  I 
would  have  laughed  more  than  either  of  you.  [Gravely.]  Who 
knows,  perhaps  that  folly  would  have  been  the  most  reasonable. 
However,  it  is  decided. 

Brig  But— 

Gil  Don't  let's  say  anything  more  about  it.  It  is  decided.  [Ourt- 
Kys  and  laughs.']  Consider  me  an  ambassadress.  [Goes  R.  to  LOUISE. 

Brio  [c.~|  So  I  can  call  in  poor  Sartorys,  who  is  in  the  park? 

Gil" In  the  park? 

Brig  [Goes  up  c  ]  Yes  ;  there  he  is,  look  at  him. 

Gil  [Laughing.]  Poor  fellow  i     Yes,  call  him  in. 

Brig  Sartorys,  here  !  Sartorys !  Come  here,  a  moment,  my  boy  ; 
I've  something  to  say  to  you. 

Enter  VALREAS,  L.  1.  E.,  in  full  evening  dress,  ivith  a  large  camelia  in  hit 
button-hole. 

Val  Well,  you  see  I'm  not  late  for  dinner !  [Seeing  every  one  silent.'] 
Hallo  !  something's  going  on  !  [He  goes  to  BRIG,  L.  c. 

Enter  SARTOH  rs,  quickly,  L.  u.  E.     LOUISE  advances  to  meet  him.     GILBERT* 
remains  R.  c      SARTORYS  c. 

Louise  [To  SARTORYS.]  You  will  dine  with  us,  Monsieur.  Gilberte 
begs  you  to  remain. 

Gil  \lhlding  out  her  fiand]  Yes,  I  ask  you. 

Sar  [Crossing  LOUISE  and  kissing  GILBERTE'S  hand.]  Oh  !  if  you  only 
knew  how  happy  —  [Louis  :  saunters  up  o. 

Gil  I  know.  [They  go  up  B.  c. 

Iral  [Aside  to  BRTGARD,  bringing  him  down]  What's  to  become  of  me! 
Brig  [Aside  to  VALREAS.]  Well,  now,  I  hope  you'll  let  me  alone. 

lot  [Same.]  Then  I  suppose  I'd  better  look  after  the  widow? 
•  Britj  [Sa'.nf.  ]  She's  gone.  [Goes  up  c.  to  Lomre. 

Val  Gone?     Well,  that's  consoling. 


1«  FROTJ  FllOtJ. 

Enter  BABON  and  BARONESS,  in  full  dress  for  dtnnet ,  i.  1  ». 

V.tl  Ah.  Baroness  !  what  a  delicious  toilet. 

[Jfisxs  her  hnnd.     BARON  puts  glass  to  his  eye,  and  looks  on  VALBXAI 
ccrnplaccntly.] 

Bar  \  Aside  to  VALREAS.]  What  is  going  on  ?    Ah!    M.  de  Sartory* 
md  Gilberte      I  thought  so. 

Val  Exactly.     It's  a  match.     What  kind  of  music  would  you  sug 
gest  for  that  marriage  ?  eh  ? 

Bar  What  music?    Music  of  the  future.     We  will  wait  and  see. 

Val  Gilberte  gone !  the  widow  gone  !     Baroness,  I  have  no  one  tc 
adore  now,  but  you. 

Baron  [Nudging  VALEEAS.]     Go  it,  my  boy.     Fourth  attempt. 

[Takes  ttage  B. 

Brig  To  Dinner ! 

[BRIQAED  and  LOUISE,  VALEEAS  and  BARONESS,  SARTOBTS  and  GILBERTE, 
BAEON.     Curtain.} 


ACT    II. 

SCENE. — The  house  of  SABTORYS,  in  Paris.  Sofa  R,  front  to  audience 
Pitino  bdiind  sofa,  up  and  down  stage.  Round  table  L.  H.  Cliimney  L, 
ii.  Larye  mirror  over  mantelpiece  Flowers  and  pedestals  about  room. 
Marble  lust  on  stand  c.  Picture  of  FEOD  FBOU  on  easel  above  L.  table. 
Chairs  E.  and  L.  Walls  covered  with  pictures.  Arm  cliair  L.  of  table. 

Prrou    discovered,  hat   in  hand,  sitting  on  chair  L. ,  with  book  and  roll  of 
music  in  hand. 

Pitou  The  greatest  folly  of  a  fashionable  woman  is  to  appear  on  the 
stage  cf  n  theater  ;  the  next  to  the  greatest  folly  is  to  wisa  herself 
there  ;  and  the  folly  before  that  is  tr>  take  part  in  private  theatricals. 
[Rises.]  But  they  all  do  the  last — all.  [Goes  to  piano  and  touches  it.] 
Good  instrument — musical  taste,  evidently.  [Yaicns.]  T  wish  some 
one  would  come.  I've  been  waiting  five  minutes  since  I  sent  up  my 
card.  [Adjusts  eye-glass  and  looks  from  picture  to  picture.]  Not  bad — not 
bad. 

Enter  PAULINE,  L.  I.E. 

Pauline  Madame  will  see  you,  sir,  in  a  moment.  She  expected 
you.  Monsieur  Pitou,  is  it  not  ? 

Pitou  Yes,  Mademoiselle.     M.  Pitou,  of  the  Theater  Palais  Roval 

Pau  Oh,  yes1  you  have  been  anxiously  expected  by  Madame  !  she 
wishes  to  see  you  about — about — pshaw,  about — 

Pitmi  \Dryly.}  You  dor.'t  know  why?  [PAULINE  shakes  her  head,} 
You  her  maid,  and  not  know  what  she's  doing  ? 

Pau  Oh.  I  know  wh'jn  she  goes  out  to  walk  with  M.  de  Valreas. 

Pitou  M.  de  Vulreas  !9  a  charming  gentleman.  He  adores  Madam* 
Butorys'  eh? 


raou  FKOU.  IT 

Pau  He  may  do  what  he  pleases,  hut  Madame  adores  only  nei 
husband. 

Piiou  And  does  her  husband  approve  of  this  little  aflair  ? 

Pau  What  lit  tie  affair? 

Pitou  Why,  the  private  theatricals  that  Madame  and  the  Baroness 
de  Cambri  and  M  de  Valreas  are  getting  up. 

Pan  Private  theatricals  !  oh,  that  Baroness  !  she  never  gives  a  poor 
girl  a  chince  to  learn  anything  that  she's  up  to.  So  quiet— so  sly ! 

Pitou  Yes,  very  quiet  now.  Once  on  a  time,  when  I  was  a  little 
younger,  she  was  the  belle  of  Paris — such  adventures,  too  !  Ha  ! 

Pau  And  so  they  are  getting  up  private  theatricals  !  and  is  my  lady 
going  to  act  in  them  ? 

Pitou  I  should  think  so  !  I  bring  her  the  prompt-book  and  music 
to-day  for  her  part. 

Pau  And  what  is  her  part  ? 

Pitou  Cleopatra,  in  the  burlesque  Vaudeville  entitled  "Antony 
and  Cleopatra."  Do  you  know  it?  [PAULINE  shakes  her  head.]  Why, 
Cleopatra  is  a  little  grisette  who  lodges  in  a  garret.  Antony  is  a 
poor  devil  of  a,  fellow,  who  lives  in  the  attic  next  to  hers.  They 
meet  at  a  masked  ball — they  come  home  together — the  sheriffs  are 
about  to  seize  him  for  debt — she  lets  him  out  of  his  attic  into  her 
garret — they  elope,  and  the  curtain  falls. 

Pau  And  is  madame—  a  lady— rich — distinguished— the  wife  of  a 
Statesman  like  M.  Sartorys— going  to  act  the  part  of  such  a  vulgai 
grisette  ? 

Pitou  [Shrugging  his  shoulders.]  It's  only  private  theatricals,  you 
know.  Besides,  the  Baroness  de  Cimbri  and  M.  de  Valreas  se 
lected  the  part.  And  then,  you  know,  rich  ladies  like  to  act  the 
parts  of  saucy  servant  maids  in  private  theatricals.  They  love  to  im 
itate  the  low  lives  they  scorn.  Now,  you— you  would  like  the  part 
of  a  duchess  if  y«u  were  to  act — wouldn't  you? 

Pau  Wouldn't  I '(    I  want  to  be  a  queen. 

Pitou  Why  don't  you  go  on  the  stage?    I'll  teach  you. 
You  have  a  good  figure,  if  it's  properly  dressed  ;  and  a  good  face,  if  it 
were  properly  painted. 

Pau  No,  sir  !  My  face  and  figure  are  natural,  and  T'm  proud  of  it. 

Pitou  Natural,  my  dear !  [Eying  her  through  glass,  and  patting  lief 
cheek.]  You  mustn't  be  proud  of  nature  if  you  want  to  be  an  actress. 
No  one  wants  to  be  natural  on  the  stage,  where  the  daylight  is  gas- 
lamps,  the  moon  green  calciums,  the  landscape  painted  canvasses, 
the  gold  dutch  metal,  and  the  diamonds  tin  ! 

Pau  But  I  thought  actors  and  actresses  were  praised  because  they 
were  natural. 

Pitou  Nature — nonsense  !  The  actor  who  should  strive  to  be  na 
tural  would  be  a  blundering  booby,  and  the  public  would  like  him  aa 
little  as  they  do  raw  meat  on  the  table,  although  meat  in  a  state  of 
nature  is  raw.  Human  taste  wants  cookery,  that's  all.  Natural 
acting,  my  dear,  is  only  nature,  boiled,  baked  or  roasted.  [Music. 

Gill>erte'[  Without.]  Pauline! 

Pau  Madame ! 


18  FROU  FROTL 

Enter  GILBERTS  c.  from  L. 

Oil  Pauline,  sen  J  at  once  for  my  dress.  I  will  not  dint!  at  home 
to-day,  and  I  must  have  that  dress.  I  must  have  it  before  six 
o'clock. 

Pau  Yes.  Madame.  [Exit  R.  1.  E. 

Gil  [To  PITOU.]  You  have  lost  no  time,  sir. 

Pilau  Not  when  I  knew  it  was  Madame  I  was  to  oblige. 

[Bows  profoundly.'] 

Gil  You  know  me,  then? 

Pitou  Oh,  yes.  I  also  know  the  father  of  Madame — M.  Brigard — a 
very  lively  gentleman.  He  comes  very  often  to  our  theater ;  and 
•ometimes  behind  the  scenes,  and  sometimes — 

Gil  That  will  do.     What  have  you  brought  me  ? 

Pitou  [Givinrj  book.']  Your  role  in  the  Vaudeville.  If  Madame  only 
knows  the  part  by  the  printed  book,  Madame  can  have  no  idea  of  it. 
This  is  the  complete  part,  with  all  the  gags  in  the  margin. 

Gil  The  gags  !  [Sits  on  sofa.] 

Pitou  [c.]  Yes,  Madame  ;  the  additions  which  the  actors  who 
played  in  the  piece  have  added  to  their  parts. 

Git.  Very  well ;  and  now  we  want  the  music. 

Pitou  I  have  copied  it.  [Giving  roll. 

Gil  [Readout.]  Air:  "  Galop  du  Tourbillon."     What  air  is  that  ? 

Pitou  I  will  play  it  for  Madame.   [Goes  to  piano.]  Like  this. 

Gil  Will  I  be  able  to  sing  that? 

Pitou  <>h,  yes,  for  Madame  can't  have  a  worse  voice  than  some  at 
our  public  singers.  Will  you  practice  it? 

Gil  Go  on,  I'll  try. 

[A  knock  ix  heard  fit  the  door.  PITOU  stops.     It  u  repeated. 

Gil  [Turning  towards  R  H.]   Who  is  there?    No  one  is  to  come  in. 

Sar/orys  [  Witfumt.]  It  is  only  me,  dear. 

Gil  Oh,  only  you.     Come  in. 

Enter  SARTORTS,  R.  1.  E. 

My  dear,  this  fa  M  Pitou.  from  the  Th3ater.     Go  on,  sir. 

Sar  From  the  theater  ? 

Gil  Yes,  you  know.  It's  about  the  little  piece  I'm  to  play  in  for 
the  benefit  of  the  poor. 

Siir  I  had  something  to  say  to  you — but  I'm  sorry  I  interrupted — 

Gil  Oh,  M.  Pitou  can  come  again.  You  can  come  again,  M. 
Pitou. 

Pitou  Whenever  you  please.  Madame.  You  have  only  to  send  me 
word  at  the  Theater  Palais  Royal e.  [Saluting.]  Monsieur — Madame  ! 

F<ir  [c.]  Good  morning,  Monsieur.  [Efii  PITOU,  c.  and  L. 

Gil  [Coming  down  to  SAHTOTITS."]  Yon  know  wlint  it's  all  about  It's 
for  the  performance  a  magnificent  performance— got  up  by  Madame 
de  Cambri.  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor. 

Sar  And  wlv.it  does  .Madame  de  Cambri  pjay  in  this  magnificent 
performance  ? 

Gil  She  d">n't  play  anything— she  gets  it  up. 


FROU  FROU.  19 

Sar  That'.-?  her  way. 

Gil  flow  her  way  'i 

Sar  L  uieaa  that  while  you  and  the  others  are  running  about,  act- 
in^  on  thj  stage,  she  is  sitting  very  tranquilly  in  front  with  the  other 
gaests,  criticisi-ig  your  performance. 

Gil  [Siftiat/  nn  xof'i.]    You  don't  like  her. 

Sar  1  don't  like  her,  and  I  don't  dislike  her.  She  is  merely  a  wo 
man  of  the  world — that  is  all 

Gil  And  I — what  am  I?  {Looking  at  him  roguishly. 

S'r  [Standing  beside  her.}  The  most  adorable  little  actress  in  the 
world 

Oil  Very  pretty,  indeed.  [Tumi/M  tver  the  leaves  of  her  part.]  You 
wished  to  speak  with  me  i 

Sir  Yes.  ' 

Oil  [Taming  over  'he  haves  of  her  part  and  speaking  heedlessly .]  Speak 
away. 

Sir  [Lookiny  di*conlentet\ly  at  the  book  she  is  studying.}  It  was  about 
something  entirely  disconnected  with  this  magnificent  performance 
for  tiu  bjnc.it  of  the  poor. 

Gil  [Sfne  bus.]   SOUK  thing  serious? 

Sar  Wry  serious  !  [Same  bus. 

Gil  [S une  bus.]   That's  nice.     Goon. 

Sxr  [Tikiny  chair  by  so/a.]  My  darling,  I  wanted  to  say — 

Gil  \_ln'.2fi-up'mg  him.}   Whut  is  the  costume  of  a  debardeur? 

Sir  [Surprised.]   The  costume  of  a  debardeur  ? 

Oil  Oh,  yo'i  can't  make  me  believe  you  don't  know  what  the  cos- 
tum3  of  a  debardeur  is. 

Sir  Why.  the  costume  of  a  ilebardeur  consists  of  a  loose  silk  shirt 
and  a  -a  a  pair  of  little  pantaloons  of  velvet  or  satin. 

Gil  A-il  whit  else? 

Sar  Hum  !   Buttons  -  plenty  of  buttons. 

Gil  And  then? 

Sar  A  little  cap. 

Oil  And  after  that? 

Sir  Nothing. 

Gil  Nothing  !  Oh,  I'll  nevei  wear  that  costume — not  even  for  the 
benefit  of  the  pwr.  I  must  find  Eoiuethlng  else.  And  now,  my  dear, 
I'm  ready  tj  listen  to  you. 

Sir  I've  seen  the  Minister  of  State  this  morning. 

Gil  [Pii'iiny  down  book.]  You  toid  him  to  come,  of  course. 

Sir   To  come  where  ? 

Gd  To  our  performance. 

Sir  W  ell,  no  ;  but  I  will  tell  him  !  This  morning  we  spoke  of  an 
appointment  they  hare  for  me.  They  want  me  to  take  an  embassy 
abroad. 

Gil   [Alarmed.  ]   Abroad  ? 

Sar  You  see,  there  is  nothing  in  Paris  they  can  give  me. 

Gil  [Pettishly.]   And  where  do  they  want  you  to  go  ? 

Sar  To  Carlsruhe  !  Ambassador  to  Carlsruhe.    Isn't  that  splendid  / 

Gil  Oh,  very  splendid.     And  how  tar  is  Carlsruhe  from  Paris  ? 


20  FROU  FROU. 

Sar  I  don't  know  e>.acti y — three  or  four  hundred  miles;  nfteen 
hours  by  rail. 

Gil  As  far  o3  as  Budcn  ? 

Sar  It  is  very  near  Baden. 

Gil  [Rising.]  Near  Baden!  why  didn't  you  say  so  before.  [Crosses 
L.]  you  said  it  was  abroad.  I'll  tell  yon  how  we'll  manage  it  [SAR- 
TORYS  rises.}  You  shall  be  Ambassador  to  Carlsru.ie— that  s  settled. 
[SARTOR Y3  lakes  her  hand.]  I'll  go  and  p.\cs  the  summer  with  you  at 
Baden,  and  the  balance  of  the  year  you  will  come  to  Paris  and  see 
me  a?  often  as  you  can. 

Sur  How  ! 

Gil  [Gleefully  and  rapid  y.]  And  I  may  -but  mind,  1  don't  promise 
ft — I  miy  come  and  surprise  you  at  Caii^ruhe. 

Sar  [In  a  tone  of  disappointment.]  Bul-- 

Gil  [Stopping  astonished.}  Why,  you  didn't  think  of  taking  me  to 
Carlwuhe  ? 

Sar  Why,  yes. 

Gil  Alone— we  two  way  off  there  -  ill  the  )'ear  ? 

Sar  Why  not  ? 

Gil  But  that  would  be  to  die — ot  happiness,  1  know — but  to  die, 
nevertheless.  [Smiling  and  coaringly. j  Come,  you  were  not  serious  ? 
can  you  imagine  Frou  Frou  without  Paris  ? 

Sar  Well  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  did!  [GILBERTS  turns  a>cay  pet 
tishly.}  But  I  see  I  must  do  one  of  two  things;  go  to  Carleruhe  with 
out  you,  or  decline  the  mission. 

Gil  [R.  u  ]  Well. 

Sar  [c.]  I  have  decided. 

Gil  [Intfrestf4.~]  Yon  will  go  without  me? 

Sar  No  ;  I  will  decline. 

Gil  Ah,  that  will  be  light.  [Goes  to  him. 

Sar  Do  you  think  so  ?  I  doubt  it  myself.  But  one  thing  I'm  sure 
of — I  haven' t  the  heart  to  leave  you. 

Gil  [Putting  her  arm  about  him.]  You  love  me,  then,  a  little  still, 
after  four  years  of  marriage. 

Sar  Yes,  Gilberte !  and  I  am  only  afraid  that  I  do  not  know  how  to 
love. 

Gil  [Archly.]  Oh,  yes,  you  ^o.  _ou  know  very  well,  for  the  very 
best  way  to  love  a  wife  is  to  let  her  do  everything  she  wishes — be 
cause  then,  you  know,  the  wife  is  bound  in  honor  to  do  everything 
her  husband  wishes. 

Sar  [Taking  her  hands  in  his.]  Then,  if  I  aske_  you  something — 

Gil  After  what  you  have  done  for  me,  can  you  doubt  ? 

Sar  Thon,  suppose  I  ask  you  not  to  play  at  this  performance. 

Gil  [Withdrawing  her  hands.]  Oh,  my  love. 

Sar  Well. 

Gil  I  thought  you  were  going  to  ask  me  something  reasonable.  It 
is  impossible  for  me  to  refuse  to  play  now  ;  and  then,  you  will  see 
how  pretty  I  will  look  in  a  debardeur  costume— if  they  insist  on  it. 
But  in  anything  I'm  sure  to  be  pretty,  and  you  will  be  so  proud  of 
me. 


FROU  FROU.  21 

Sar    What— with  the  pan taloons  ?  [Ijooking  at  watch.]  I  must  go. 

Gil  Where? 

Sar  To  the  Minister,  to  give  my  answer.  On  my  way,  i  will  see 
our  little  Gcorgie  in  the  Park. 

Gil  Isn't  Georgie  here? 

Sftr  No  ;  we  took  advantage  of  the  beautiful  day  to  carry  him  out 
for  a  walk.  He  was  ill,  you  know,  this  morning. 

Gil  He  was  ill? 

Sar  Didn't  you  know?     But  it  was  nothing.         , 

Gil  How  could  I  know  ?  I  told  them  to  bring  him  to  my  room 
even-  morning.  [Rings  Ml  on  table  sharply  ]  And  now  I  remember  I 
have  not  seen  him  to-day.  / 

Enter  PAULINE,  R.  1  «. 

Pan  The  dress  has  come,  Madame. 

Gil  I  don't  want  the  dress — why  was  not  Georgie  brought  to  me 
this  morning  ? 

I'au  The  nurse  brought  him  to  your  room,  but  you  were  asleep, 
and  yesterday,  when  we  brought  him,  we  woke  you,  and  you  were 
angry. 

GU  How  dare  you  * 

Sar  [To  GILBERTS.]  Never  mind.   [To  PAUMN*.]  You  can  go. 

Exit  PAULINE  R.  1  R. 

Gil  I  was  angry  !  What  sort  of  way  is  that  to  speak  ? 

Sar  You  see,  I  wouldn't  permit  you  to  be  spoken  to  in  that  way. 
After  all,  [smiling]  she  was  right,  though.  [GILBKKTB  about  to  speak.] 
Now,  I  must  po. 

Gil  You  will  kiss  me,  at  least,  before  you  go. 

.Sar  [Kissing  her  forehead  and  holding  her  for  a  moment.}  Ah,  Gilberte, 
Gilberte  ! 

Gil  Don't  be  long.     You  know  I  dine  with  Madame  de  Cambri. 

Sar  When — to  day  ?  I  was  not  invited,  was  I  ? 

Gil  Oh.  no  !  All  our  husbands  are  to  be  excluded,  in  order  that  we 
may  have  full  liberty  to  talk  about  our  costumes  in  the  performance 
— you  can  dine  at  the  club,  can't  you  ? 

S-ir  No;  I  have  some  writing  to  do  this  evening.  I'll  dine  at 
home. 

Gil  What— all  alone? 

Sar  Alone?  oh,  no  !  1  shall  have  Georgie.  Good-by.  [Kiuet  iur 
hand.]  Good-by.  [Exit  c  and  L. 

Gil  [Snatching  aicay  her  hand  and  *tan<ling,  c.,  pouting.]  With  Georgie! 
I  understand  what  he  means,  but  nothing  is  more  unjust.  [Goes  h> 
sofa.]  It  looks  as  if  I  didn't  love  my  child.  [«Vifc».J  I  love  him  as  much 
as  any  of  the  women  that  I  know  love  their  children.  I  can't  take 
him  myself  to  walk  in  the  Park,  and  carry  his  hoop.  [Laughing  and 
clapping  her  hands.]  I  don't  know  but  that  might  be  a  pretty  sijiht, 
though.  It  would  be  a  novelty,  anyway.  [Looking  at  dork  }  Bless  me, 
almost  three,  and  at  this  hour  the  Btroness  was  to  be  hero  with  M. 
de  N'alreas  to  rehearse  our  scene.  [Jumping  up.]  and  I  don't  know  a 
word  of  my  part. 


22  FROU  FROU. 

[Opens  the  part  which  PITOC  gave  her,  goes  to  piano,  touches  it  and  recites 
"  I've  a  pretty  litte  waist. 
Black  hair  aud  eyes  of  blue." 

BRIGARD  appears  at  C. 

Is  that  you,  papa  ? 

Brig  [ Applauding •.]  Go  on,  you  little  rogue,  go  on  ! 

Gil  \Singing.]         "  I  have  a  heart  that  burns  and 
A  face  that  must  please  you." 

Brig  Ha,  ha,  ha !  What  are  you  singing  comic  opera  music  for  ? 

Oil  {Going  to  him,  c.]  I  was  studying  my  part.  I'm  so  glad  to  see 
you — and  Louise  ? 

Brig  Very  well,  indeed.     I've  come  to  say  good-by. 

Gil  Are  you  going  away  ? 

Brij  Yes — to-morrow  morning.     I'm  off  ti  Bohemia. 

Oil  To  Bohemia  !  [Laughs  ]  Have  you  been  appointed  Ambassador 
to  look  after  the  theaters  in  Bohemia? 

Brig  Nonsense,  my  dear.  It's  only  one  of  my  little  freaks.  You 
know  how  flighty  I  am.  But  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you  about  Louise. 

Gil  You  are  not  going  to  take  her? 

Brig  No — and  that's  the  reason  that — 

Gil  I  see  —you  want  her  to  come  here. 

Brig  Yes,  until  I  come  back.     I  shall  be  away  three  months. 

Gil  Well,  she  shall  ;  but  not  for  three  months,  nor  for  six,  but  for 
always.  Since  she  has  taken  it  into  her  head  never  to  marry,  she 
shall  live  with  me.  You  know,  papa,  how  much  I  love  Louise,  and 
you  know  how  I  have  tried  time  and  again  to  induce  her  to  come 
and  live  with  me.  She  has  always  refused  before  and  I  don't  know 
why. 

Brig  Don't  you?    Why,  she  was  afraid  of  incommodine:  y  u. 

Gil  Why,  we  have  four  times  as  much  room  as  we  want. 

Brig  That  wasn't  it.  She  was  afraid  of  interfering  with  your  hap 
piness. 

Gil  Oh,  that  was  all  very  well  during  the  honeymoon  ;  but  now, 
after  four  years — 

Brig  You'd  better  not  talk  to  her  in  that  style — 

Gil  I  know  how  to  talk  to  her  to  make  her  stay  with  me. 

Brig  Well,  she'll  be  here  to-day;  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  prevent 
her  going  away  again. 

Gil  I'll  do  that,  if  I  have  to  lock  the  door. 

[BARONESS  appears  at  c. 

B'ness  Can  we  come  in  ? 

Oil  Certainly.  [BARONESS  comes  down,  fdlou-ed  by  BARON. 

Brig  [R."|  I  am  delighted  to  see  you  Madame,  since  it  allows  me  to 
bid  you  farewell  before  my  departure. 

Baron  [R.  c.]  Going  to  leave  us,  Brigard  ?     Where  to,  now  ? 

B'ness  [c.]  To  Bohemia.  I  understand. 

Baron  I  believe  Bohemia  is  celebrated  for  its  hair-dye,  isn.t  it  ? 

Brig  Well,  I'm  not  going  there  to  lay  in  a  stock  of  hair-dye,  I 
assure  you. 


FROU  FROU.  23 

Baron  Well,  I  wouldn't  go,  either,  if  I  wore  a  wig.      [All  laugh. 
Brig  [Grossing  up  c.]  He,  he,  he!  Very  funny.     Allow  me  to  wish 
you  good  day. 

£ 'ness  Good-by,  Bohemian. 

Brig  Respect  my  gray  hairs,  Madame. 

B'ness  [Looking  through  eye-glass.]  I  don' t  see  them. 

Brig  True  ;  I  forgot.     I  haven't  had  time  to  grow  any  yet. 

Biron  Bravo  !  Repent  of  your  sins,  old  boy,  and  turn  bald. 

[BRIGARD  exits  c.  and  L.  ,  followed  by  BARON. 

,  B'ness  [Sitting  on  sof<i.\  That  horrid  man,  my  husband,  my  dear, 
met  my  carriage  and  would  come  with  me.  And  yon  know  1  must 
humor  him  a  little  ;  he  has  a  claim  on  me.  He's  my  husband.  But 
what  is  this  I  hear  about  your  sister  Louise  coming  here  ? 

Gil  [On  sofa.]  Yes,  she's  coming  while  papa's  away  ;  and  after  that 
T  hopj — 

B  ness  You  hope  ? 
Gil  That  she  will  never  leave  me. 

B'ness  [Regarding  her  closely.]  Ah  !   [Pause.]  And  vou  will  take  her 
with  you  to  Carlsruhe  ? 

Gil  I  am  not  going  to  Carlsruhe  ! 
B' ness  Sartorys  is  going  alone,  then  ? 
Gil  He  has  declined  the  mission. 

B'ness  I  congratulate  you,  my  dear.     See  what  it  is  to  be  loved. 
[Laughing.]  After  that  it's  unnecessary  for  me  to  ask  if  he  consents  to 
your  taking  part  in  our  little  theatrical  performance. 
Gil  Well,  he  consents,  but — 

B'ness  Never  mind  the  "  buts,"  my  dear,  so  long  as  he  consents. 
Have  you  studied  your  part  ? 
Gil  All  but  the  last  scene. 

B'ness  Oh,  the  whole  thing  will  be  a  great  success.     I'm  sure  of  it. 
And  Valreas,  who  is  to  act  your  lover  in  the  piece — 
Gil  When  he  does  act  it !     He  don't  study  a  word. 
B'nexs  Oh,  he'll  play  it,  and  for  the  best  of  reasons. 
Gil  What  is  that? 

B'ness  He's  dead  in  love  with  fhe  person  he's  to  play  with. 
Gil  Dead  in  love  with  me  !  nonsense  !  you  who  know  him  so  well 
can  believe  that  ? 

B'ness  It's  just  because  I  do  know  him  so  well  that  I  say  it. 
Gil  [Crossing  to  i  ]  Now  you  are  laughing  at  me. 
B'ness  [c.]  I've  known  Valreas  to  be  in  love  when  it  was  a  laugh 
ing  matter,  but  this  time 
Gil  [L.  c.]  Well,  this  time? 

Enter  BARON  c.  from  L. 

Baron  Ladies,  Valreas  is  coming  up. 
B'ness  [R.  c.]  Now,  my  dear,  you  shall  sec. 
Baron  [c.  ]  Hey  ?  See  what  ? 
B'nets  Keep  quiet. 

[BARON  starts  up  stage  -BAROSKSS  crtn-m  /./  GILBERT  j,.  0 


24  FROU  FROU. 

Enter  VALREAS,  c.  from  L. 

Val  [.Sowing  at  door.]  Madame !  Ah,  Baron,  where  are  you  going  ? 

Biron  I?  I  am  going  to  keep  quiet.  [Sits  R. 

B'ness  [With  a  gesture  (o  GILBERIE.]    Come,  Monsieur,  make  y»ur 
adieux.     The  news  was  true— your  friend  Sartorys  is  appointed  to 
Carlsruhe.  and  Gilberte  leaves  us  in  eis^ht  days. 
Val  [Starling forward.]  How? 

[GILBERTE  looking  down  and  motionless 

B'ness  Immediately  after  the  performance. 

Val  [To  GILBERTE,  with  emotion.}  You  are  going  to  leave  Paris? 

B'ness  [Aside  to  GILBERTE.]  What  did  I  tell  you? 

Gil  [Arousing  herself .]  Come,  let  us  begin  the  rehearsal. 

[Grossing  to  R. 

B'ness  [To  VALREAS.]  I  was  only  joking — she's  not  going  to  leave 
Paris — how  could  she  ? 

Gil  [R.  c.]  Come — the  rehearsal. 

Baron  Rehearsal !  Bless  me  !  Where  am  I  ?  What  part  am  1  to 
take? 

B'ness  That  of  a  spectator,  who  will  be  put  out  if  he  interrupts  the 
performance. 

Baron  Then  let  me  get  a  front  seat  [Brings  chair  down  }  And  now, 
go  ahead. 

Val  Let  me  see  what  is  it  we  are  to  rehearse. 

Gil  Only  the  last  scene      I  haven't  read  it  yet. 

Val  [Crosring  tf,  L.]  Come  then — the  last  scene. 

Baron  li  I  don't  see  the  whole  performance,  I  want  my  money 
back.  [BARO.VESS  croxses  to  and  expostulates  with  htm. 

Gil  [To  VALUEAS.]  I'm  sure  you  don't  know  a  word  of  your  part. 

Val  Don't  I?  I  stiid  up  all  night  to  study  it.  [Tukes  part  out  of 
his  pocket.]  I'll  repeat  it  without  looking  at  the  book.  [To  BAROXESS.] 
But  you  will  be  ready  to  prompt  me  ? 

B'ness  Oh,  I'll  take  care  of  that. 

Gil  What  is  the  scene? 

Val  The  stage  represents  two  apartments,  separated  by  a  wall. 
I'll  fix  it.  [Plac3S  2  chairs  in  c.  up  and  down  stage.]  This  is  the  wall, 
and  here  between  the  two  chairs  is  the  door.  [Places  a  third  chair  for 
door.}  Cleopitra,  that's  you,  in  one  room;  Antony,  that's  me,  in 
the  other. 

Gil  But  I  thought  in  the  last  scene  Antony  was  in  Cleopatra'? 
apartment.  [L.  of  chairs.] 

Val  [L.  of  chairs.]  Oh,  we'll  come  to  that.  Now  take  your  place 
there.  Allow  me  to  open  the  door. 

[Pulh  away  middle  chair,  and  GILBERTS  paws  through  to  R.  H. 

Gil  Now  we're  right.     Where  will  you  go,  Baroness  ? 

Baron  Come,  clear  the  stage. 

B'ness  I'll  be  prompter ;  give  me  the  book.  [Takes  booh,  and  sitt, 
L.  down  *tage  opposite  BARON.]  Now  we're  off. 

Gil  Let's  he?in  where  the  constah'e  has  just  gone- 
Fa/  To  look  for  the  Commissary  of  Police  ! 


FROU  FROU.  25 

Gil  That 'sit. 

Val  You  commence. 

Baron   Ring  up  the  curtain.  [Commences  to  applaud. 

B'ness  What  are  you  about? 

Baron  Giving  them  a  reception,  my  dear  ;  it  encourages  them. 

Gil  \Ceasing  1o  apeak  naturally,  and  plnyiny  a  little  awkwardly,  which  she 
must  do  throughout  this  '•  rehearsal."}   "  He  is  gone  !     He  is  gone !" 

Val  [Playing  with  animation  ]   "Bravo!   bravo!     Hurrah!" 

Baron  [Applauding.]  Bravo!   bravo! 

Val  [To  BARON.]   My  dear  sir,  you  put  me  out. 

B' ness  [To  BARON.]   Will  you  be  quiet  / 

Biron     I  thought  he  was  starting  the  applause.     Go  on. 

Gil  "He  is  gone  !  he  is  gone  !" 

Baron  Stop  !  stop  !  you  said  that  before. 

Val  [Cjming  in  front  of  chairs  ahd  botcinrj  to  BARONESS,  then  E  A.RON.]  The 
management  begs  me  say — 

Baron  He's  going  to  apologize.     Some  of  the  actors  are  sick  ;  have 
to  change  the  piece. 

Val  — That    unless  order  is  preserved,   the  performance  can  not 
aroceed 

Baron   [Applauds.     To  BAROXKSS.]  I  suppose  he  means  me. 

B'ness  Sh  ! 

Gil  '•  He  is  gone  !  he  is  gone  !" 

Baron  Well,  this  is  the  most  vividly  interesting  play  I  ever  at 
tended. 

Gil  Please,  Baron  !     "  He  is  gone!     He  is  gone  !" 

[RARON  turns  away  in  disgust. 

"But  he  will  icturn  with  the  Commissary.     They  will  force  the 
door  !     Pray,  sir,  [as  if  throuyli  icall]  no  more  of  your  fooling." 

B'ness  Very  good  !  Very  good,  indeed  ! 

Baron  [  With  the  air  of  a  co/ijioisseur.]   Yes,  very  good  !     Really   very 
good. 

Gil  Isn't  it  ?     "  Pray,  sir,  no  more  of  your  fooling."     [To  Baron.] 
And  you  will  see  at  the  performance  I  will  do  it  even  better. 

B'ness  Now  you.      "  Ah  !  a  light — ' 

Val  I   know  without  prompting.     "Ah!  a  light  breaks  in  upon 
me.  I  will  clear  my  apartment,  and  .put  all  my  furniture  into  yours.'' 

Gil  "  In  my  room?" 

Val  "Why  not  ;  since  I'm  about  to  marry  you?" 

Gil  "Before  the  Mayor  ?" 

B'ness  [To  GILBERTS-'.]  In  the  book  it  says  you  must  speak  that  line 
very  quickly. 

Gil  Haven't  I  said  it  quickly  enough  ? 

B'ness  [Imitating  GILBERTE.]    No  ;  you  said  it  this  way — "Before  the 
Mayor ! ' ' 

Gil  [Tn  VALFEAS.]  Shall  we  go  over  it  again  ? 

Vil  With  all  my  he-irt.     "  Since  I'm  about  to  marry  you. 

Gil  [  Wit!i  a  rush.  \   "  Before  the  Mayor?" 

[All  applaud  her. 

I  hope  tint  1  did  it  then. 


26  FROU  FROU. 

B'ness  That  time  it  was  excellent. 

Gil  [Repeating.}   "  Before  the  Mayor?" 

Val  ''Quick  !  quick  !  open  the  door." 

Gil  "  No,  no;  I  dare  not.      [To  B'ness.]     What  do  I  do  then  ? 

B'ness  [Referring  to  Look.]  The  book  says  you  run  to  the  window  and 
look  out. 

Gil  Oh,  yes  ;  so  I  do.  [Goes  to  side  and  pretends  to  look  out.]  "Ah,  the 
police  are  coming,  led  by  the  Commissary.  Gracious,  what  a  long 
sword  he  has  ;  and  heavens,  what  a  long  nose  he  has  !" 

Val  "  I'll  make  it  longer  yet,  when  I  get  hold  of  it  Open  the 
door,  quick." 

B'ness  [Referring  to  l>ook.]  Now  you  open  the  door  between  your 
apartments. 

Gil  So  I  do  !     [Goes  to  chair  and  stnps.}     And  what  do  I  say  then  ? 

Baron  Why,  you  say  come  in. 

B'ness  No,  you  don't.  You  s;ty,  "  So  much  the  worse.  Now  let's 
be  off." 

Baron  So  she  does.     I  forgot. 

Gil  [Throwing  down  the  middle  chair,  which  represents  t  fie  door.]  "So 
much  the  worse.  Now  let's  be  off." 

Val  [Rushing  to  lier  with  outst,-etche>l  arms,  a-  if  to  embrace  her.]  "  Now 
we'll  be  off." 

Gil  [Eluding  him  in  earnest.]  Stop.     What  are  you  going  to  do ? 

[  VALREAS  psiuxex. 

B'ness  What's  the  matter?     Goon. 

Val  [Smiling.]  Madame  don't  seem  to  be  willing. 

B'ness  [Referring  to  book.]  He's  right.  The  book  says,  "  He  kisses 
her  as  they  go  off. ' ' 

Gil  Does  the  book  say  that  ? 

[Ootnes  down  to  BARONESS,  who  shows  her  t/ie  book.     BAROX  also  looks  over 
it  icith  eye-glass.] 

Baron  Yes;  there  it  is  "He  kisses  her  as  they  go  off."  [With 
emphasis}  I  should  like  to  play  that  part  myself.  [Crosses  to  his  seat 
again.] 

Gil  [L.  c.  very  promptly.}  Well,  we'll  go  off  without  that. 

Val  [c.  As  GILBERTS  goes  iip.i  What  ?  I  agreed  to  play  the  part  on 
that  account  alone. 

Gil  Well,  perhaps  on  the  night  of  the  performance  I  may — 

Val  [Sitting  down.]  Very  well  ;  I'll  perform  it  very  badly  if  I  don't 
rehearse  it. 

Baron  Oh,  he  must  rehearse  it,  you  know.  Here  [Going  up.]  let 
me  show  you. 

B'ness  Sit  down,  sir.  [BARON  subside*. 

GU  Come,  let's  go  on  without  the  kissing. 

Val  No      I  wont  go  on. 

Gil  I  appeal  to  the  Stage  Manager.  [Turning  to  BARONESS.!  Ought 
he  to  kiss  me  at  rehearsal  ? 

B'ness  Certainly —  [GILBERTE  nndeciaea,  ana  turning  away. 

Besides,  my  dear,  you  know  it's  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor. 

Gil  [  With  an,  emotion  witich  s/'u-  fries  to  conceal.]    Well — if  you  say  so. 


FROU  FROU.  27 

Baron  [Pitying  GILBERTE'S  distress.]    Oh,  well ;    come,   now  ;  if  ghe 
don't  want  to. 
[BARO.;ESS  mulcts  signs  for  him  to  be  q<iiet.     VALREAS  jumps  up,  approaches 

GILBERTE,  whose  back  is  to  him  (her  face  bjtred,  and  turned  up  the  stage) 

and  then  stops.] 

B'ness  Well,  what  are  you  stopping  for? 

Val  [Confused.]  I —        [Appro'ichmg  nearer  to  GILBERTS,  with  respect.] 
Madame  ! 

[Takes  a  single  lock  of  her  hair  in  his  hand,  and  presses  it  to  his  lips.     At  this 

moment,  and  on  this  picture,  LOUISE  appears  in  c.  D.  BARON  and  BARONESS 

rise.     Embarrassment  on  part  of  all      LOUISE  comes  down  c.,  looking  with 

astonishment  at  all,  and  at  the  disordered  furniture.] 

Val  [Turning  and  picking  up  chairs.]  Take  care,  Mademoiselle,  one 
moment.  [Replaces  chairs.] 

Louise  Thank  you. 

Gil  [To  LOUISE.]  We  were  rehearsing. 

Louise  I'm  sorry  if  I  interrupted  you. 

B'ness  Oh,  as  for  me,  I'm  glad  you  did,  for  we  were  almost  at  the 
end  of  the  piece,  and  [Looking  at  her  watch.}  I  had  almost  forgotten 
that  I  should  be  at  home  now.  [To  BARON.]  Come  along,  my  dear. 
[Goes  up  c.  as  LOUISE  crosses  down  L.,  and  speaks  to  GILBERTE,  who  still 
remains  R.  u.  s.  ]  You  intend  to  keep  her  with  you  ?  [BARON  goes  over 
to  LOUISE,  and  tries  to  speak  with  her.  She  is  intent  on  watching  GILBERTE 
and  BARONESS.] 

Gil  Certainly  ! 

B'ness  Don't  forget  that  you  dine  with  me  to-day,  and  that  we 
have  another  rehearsal  to-morrow. 

GU  I  will  not  forget. 

B'ness  Come,  Baron. 

Baron  Certainly,  my  dear,  [c.]  Somehow  or  other  I  don't  be 
lieve  that  young  lady  likes  my  wife. 

B'ness  [Up  L.  c.]  Valreas,  your  arm. 

Val  [c.  Saluting  GILBERTS]  Until  we  meet  again,  Madame.  [To 
LOUISE.]  Mademoiselle.  [Bows.  Louise  returns  the  salute  gravely. 
VALREAS  and  BARONESS  exeunt  L.  c.  BARON  goei  to  GILBERTE  R.  c. 
Shakes  hands  with  her ;  then  crosses  to  LOUISE,  but  scared  by  her  demeanor, 
hurries  out  L.  C. 

Gil  [Running  to  LOUISE.]  My  dear,  dear  Louise. 

Louise  Dear  sister  !     [Kisses  her  affectionately.]     What  has  happened  ? 

Gil  [Archly.]  Don't  you  know  ?  [LOUISE  signifies  • '  No. " 

A  great  happiness  is  in  store  for  me.    Sit  down  here  with  me.   [Place* 
her  arm  about  LOUISE  and  lends  her  to  sofa.] 

Louise  [After  they  sit.]   Well? 

Gil  [Taking  both  LOUISE'S  hands.]  Suppose  I  have  a  sister  ! 

Louise  A  sister? 

Gil  Yes ;  a  sister  whom  I  love  very  much  ;  and  suppose,  after 
being  separated  from  her  for  four  years,  I  find  her  again,  all  of  a 
sudden,  when  I  can  hope  to  keep  her  with  me  forever  ! 

Louise  What  do  you  mean,  my  dear  Gilberte? 


28  FEOU  FBOU. 

Gil  That  now  yon  are  come,  you  are  to  remain  witl  me  all  my 
life.  I  have  arranged  it  with  papa. 

Louise  But  I  have  heard  nothing  of  this. 

[Enter  SARTORYS,  c.  from  L. 

Sar  [Taking  LOUISE'  a  hands.~\  Ah!  they  told  me  I  should  find  you  here 

Gil  Have  you  seen  the  Minister  ? 

Sar  Yes. 

Gil  And  what  did  you  tell  him  ? 

Sar  What  I  promised.     All  is  finished. 

Gil  Ah  !  how  much  I  love  you  for  that.  And  to  console  you  for 
the  mission  you  have  lost  at  Carlsruhe,  I  give  you  a  mission  to  per 
form  here. 

Sar  A  mission  ? 

Gil  Yes  ;  and  an  important  one,  too.  Papa  is  to  leave  to-morrow 
for  three  months  ;  and  he  and  I  have  arranged  that  Louise  shall  re 
main  with  us  while  he  is  away  ;  but  after  that-- 

tiar  [Playfully.]  What  then  ? 

Gil  You  must  decide  the  rest. 

Louise  [Troubled.]  Gilberte  !  What  are  you  saying? 

GU  [To  SARTORYS.]  She  thinks  that  she  will  incommode  us.  You 
must  tell  her  she  is  foolish  to  say  such  things  ;  and  that  instead  of 
being  in  the  way,  her  presence  here  will  be  of  the  greatest  service. 
You  know  how  to  manage  her  ;  and  you  can  persuade  her  to  stay,  if 
you  tell  her  she  has  a  duty  to  fulfill  here.  [GILBERTE  throughout  this 
tpeech  is  speaking  to  SARTORYS.  and  at  LOUISE,  to  whom  her  eye  now  and  then 
wanders  significantly.]  Tell  her  that  there  are  ever  so  many  important 
things  for  her  to  do  here— wearisome  things,  in  fact,  that  bore  me, 
and  exhaust  me,  but  will  make  her  happy — they  always  did  ;  for  she 
loves  serious  duties.  [Rises  and  crosses  to  L.  of  him.]  You  tell  her 
everything  you  can  think  of  to  make  her  stay.  I  haven't  a  moment's 
time  to  spare  now  ;  and,  besides  [To  LOUISE.]  our  little  Georgie  loves 
you  so  much.  [Pointing  to  SAR.]  Only  see  how  lucky  it  is  you 
came  in  as  you  did,  for  he  was  going  to  dine  here — all  alone.  And 
now  you  can  dine  with  him.  [Moving  off  L.]  I  give  him  to  you. 
You  must  take  my  place.  [LociSE  rise*,  as  if  about  to  speak. 

Not  a  word  ;  it's  fixed.     I'll  run  and  tell  them  to  serve  dinner  foi 
two  ;  there  now.  [Runs  out  L.  1  E. 

Sar  [Taking  hand*  of  LOUISE.]  Gilberte  is  right.  You  must  staj 
with  us.  I  won't  hear  any  denial.  It's  settled. 

Ijouise  But  it  is  not  settled. 

Sar  [Laughing.  [  Not  if  I  get  vexed  ? 

Louise  Not  if  you  get  vexed. 

Sar  Not  even  if  I  beg  you  to  remain  ? 

Louise  [Crossing  ]  Not  even  if  you  beg  me  to  remain. 

Sar  [Seriously.]  Louise  !  [Taking  htr  hands.]  You  will  render  Gil 
berte  and  myself  a  great  service  by  staying  with  us  ;  for- then  seme- 
Ming  that  is  very  much  needed  in  this  house  will  he  needed  no  longer. 

Louise  [  Withdrawing  her  hand.]  What  is  needed  here  ? 

Sar  A  wife 


FROU  FROTJ  2» 

Louise  What  is  this  you  tell  me? 

Sar  I  say  that  what  is  needed  in  this  household  IB  a  wife  ;  and  yo» 
know  it,  although  you  pretend  thut  you  do  not.  [1'a.usc. 

Louise  [With  emo'ion.]  What  has  happened? 

Sar  Nothing  has  happened.  Everything  is  the  same  now  as  alwayt, 
with  us.  I  love  Gilberte  more  than  ever  I  did. 

Louise  I  Lno^v  it.  [  With  asr^le.]  But  1  doa't  see  what  great  mis 
fortune  that  is. 

Sar  You  don' t  see  ? 

Louise  No. 

Sar  Then  you  shall.  This  morning  I  was  appointed  Minister  to 
.  You  have  heard  of  it? 

Louue  Yes  ;  and  I  was  prouder  than  ever  of  you. 

Sar  I  told  Gilberte,  and  she  said  to  me  she  would  never  consent  to 
leave  Paris. 

Louise  And  then  you — 

Sar  I  refused  the  honor  they  would  Lave  conferred  upon  me.  I 
refused  it  for  her  sake  ;  and  with  the  same  satisfaction  that  I  would 
feel  in  making  her  a  present,  no  matter  how  simple.  And  yet  by 
that  refusal  I  know  I  have  sacrificed  that  brilliant  fortune  that  had 
been  my  life-long  dream.  I  refused  it  because  I  love  Gilberte,  and 
she  permitted  me  to  do  so — because  she  loved  me  not. 

Louife  Sartorys ! 

Sar  When  you  gave  Gilberte  to  me — because  it  was  you  who  gave 
her  to  me — 

Louise  [Turning partly  awai/.]     Yes;  it  was  I. 

Sar  You  said  tome,  "You  are  the  fittest  husband  for  Gilberte; 
and  her  frivolity  will  cause  me  less  fear  for  her,  when  she  is  the  wife 
of  a  man  so  wise  as  you."  You  did  not  think  then  what  so  wise  a 
man  as  1  could  become.  Those  faults  in  her  which  made  you  fear, 
and  which  I  might  have  cured  by  a  little  firmness,  I  refused  to  per 
ceive  then,  because  I  loved  her.  I  love  her  to-day  as  I  loved  her 
from  the  first ;  but  now,  after  four  years,  you  will  find  in  Gilberte 
the  same  faults,  only  the  faults  /iave  become  greater. 

Louise  But  her  child  'f 

Sar  She  adores  him.  A  little  while  ago  Gaorgio  was  seriously  ill. 
Gilberte  passed  eight  nights  at  liis  side,  sleeping  but  an  hour  at  a 
tune.  By  day  she  was  never  from  him  Her  love  and  watchfulness 
alone  snatched  him  from  the  grave.  He  recovered  ;  then  foi  whole 
jpceks  she  saw  him  only  five  minutes  in  the  morning  and  five  minutes 
nt  night. 

Louise  Who  took  care  of  him  then  ? 

Sar  His  governess  ;  and  I,  when  1  could. 

fouise  What  you  tell  me  is  dreadful. 

Sar  Yes.  And  if  Gilbert  and  1  must  remain  alone,  abandoned  to 
one  another,  who  can  tell  what  will  be  the  end  of  it  all.  [Taking  her 
hands  again.]  But  if  some  one  else — 

Louise  Some  one  else — 

Sar  Some  one  who  Is  good,  and  kind,  and  wise,  woull  come  be- 
tvreen  us  ;  would  take  control  of  this  household,  which  every  on* 


W  FfcOTT  FHOU 

ueglerc,?;  •wonH  perform  those  duties  which  Qilberte  avoids,  and 
winch  I  have  not  the  will  to  press  upon  her. 

L(uit<f  Lut  you  must ;  it  io  \or.r  duty. 

Sir  1  ':no'.v  it  is  my  ^.r.ty  :  but  I  have  not  the  strength  to  perform 
it  against  her.  You  can  now  see  how  the  danger  which  now  threatens 
th's  house,  and  which  I  know  not  how  to  avert,  may  become  greater 
r  cry  day.  [Smiting.]  It  io  one  of  those  situations  of  which  it  is 
aflir-il*  ir>  speak  without  a,  smile  :  a  frivolous  wife  and  an  iudulgtnt 
ausbana.  They  have  been  seen  before — they  will  be  seen  again  :  and 
that  is  all  there  is  the  matter  here  1  The  danger  is  about  us.  Neither 
Gilberte  nor  1  cau  avert  ic ;  but  I  sincerely  believe  you  can  defend 
as  against  it. 

Louise  [In  a  low  voice.]  YJ:I  think  so  ? 

Sar  We  must  keep  you  with  us.  The  course  pointed  out  by  Gil 
bert  was  rir-ht ;  and  now  you  know  you  have  a  duty  to  perform. 

Louise  [facing  him.]  A  duty? 

Sar  A  duty.  And  never  was  an  accident  more  providential  than 
that  which  sent  you  to  us. 

Lou'ie  It  is  well.     I  remain. 

Sar  Thanks. 

Enter  VINCENT,  with  a  package  of  letters  and  papers,  and  a  shaded  larrp, 

lig/ded,  which  he  places  on  table  R. 

Louise  [Aside.     Grossing  to  R.  H.  COR.]  This,  then,  is  their  happiness! 

[Music. 

Enter  GILBERTE  R.  IE.,   "en  grande  toilette,"  noisily.     GKORGIE,  unper- 
ceived  by  her,  is  holding  cni  to  her  skirt,  and  half  hidden  by  it. 

Gil  I  am  late.     [To  VINCENT.]'   Order  the  carriage  immediately. 

[VINCENT  still  fixing  papers  at  table. 

Do  you  hear?  immediately!  [To  SARTORYS.]  She  will  stay,  won't 
she  ?  [Exit  VINCENT,  c. 

Sar  Yes. 

Gil  [o.]  Then  this  is  a  good  day's  work.  I'm  so  glad.  [Goet 
towards  LOUISE,  but  perceives  thai  GEORGIB  has  hold  <f  her  skirt.]  Take 
care,  take  care  ;  you  will  tear  me  !  [Repultes  him  brusquely,  and  lofkt 
at  her  robe] 

Louite  [R.  c  ]  Come  to  me,  Georgie. 

Gil  Yes,  go  to  your  aunt. 

[GEORGIE  runs  to  LOUISE  and  embraces  her. 

Gil  You  see  you  did  well  to  remain.  Your  duties  begin  at  once. 
You  will  ali  dine  together  "ery  nicely.  But  let  me  see  :  before  I  go, 
I  must  install  ytm.  j  To  SARTORYS,  se-ttixg  him  in  c/uiir.}  Now,  her* 
are  your  letters,  and  your  papers,  and  your  darling  politics.  [She 
ifreads  on  the  table  before  SARTOTYS  the  letter.'.  &c. .  which  VINORNT  thought 
in.]  And  you,  Louise,  you  will  sit  there  in  my  place. 

[Places  arm-chair  by  chimney,  to  which  LOUISE  crosses  with  G  EORGIK. 

Enter  VINCENT,  c.  from  L. 
Vincent  The  carriage,  Madame. 


FROU  FROU.  31 

Gil  [Going  up  c.]  Now,  I  must  be  off.  [Stops  in  Jooru-ty  find  *&jfa 
tack.]  How  charming  you  all  look,  that  way.  [laughing.}  A  de 
lightful  little  family  group.  [Kissing  her  hand  to  each.]  For  you.  ['ft 
LOUISB.]  For  Georgie.  For  you.  [To  SARTOR  YS. 
[Exits  laughing  witli  childish  glee.  SARTORYS  looking  after  her,  LociU 
bending  down  embracing  GEORGIE.  Quick  curtain.] 


ACT    III. 

SCENE.—  Same  at  Act  H 

Enter  BARON  followed  by  VINOKNT 

Baron  [As  he  enters.]  You  are  sure  the  Baroness  has  not  called  her* 
<his  morning? 

Vincent  Positive,  Monsieur,  no  one  has  called  to-day  ;  nol^ven  M 
de  Valreas. 

Baron  Why  do  you  say  "  not  even  "  M.  de  Valreas  ? 
Vin  Because  he  comes  here  every  day. 

Baron  The  young  jackanapes  !  and  what  does  he  come  for? 
Vin  I  suppose  to  see  master,  although  he  alwa}-s  sees  Madame. 
Baron  [Looking  at  him  sharply.]  Eh  ? 

[VINCENT  smiles,  shrugs  his  shoulders  and  goes  to  mantel. 
Baron  What  an  imprudent  little  creature  Gilberte  is  !      The  ser 
vants   begin  to  talk,  and  what's  worse,  to  shrug  their  shoulders. 
Hang  the  rascals. 

[Goes  to  sofa,  picks  up  a  book  and  turns  his  buck  on  others. 

Enter  PAULINE,  R. 

Pauline  Vincent,  has  the  porter  returned  with  the  answer  to  Mad- 
ame's  letter? 

Vin  [Yauming.]  The  answer? 

Pau  "The  answer" — Stupid,  yes,  the  answer — don't  I  speak 
plainly  ? 

Vin  [Lazily.]  Let  me  see,  the  letter  was  to  M.  de  Valreas,  wasn't  itf 

[BARON"  looks  up  from  kis  hook. 

Pau.  What  are  you  saying  things  over  and  over  for  ?  y:c  know 
Madame  is  waiting  impatiently. 

Vin  Yesr     Well  the  porter  has  not  yet  returned  with  the  answer, 

Pau  Ther.  go  along  with  you,  and  don't  stop  dawdling  here,  j  Vu»- 
OTNT  curls  hts  moustache  and  smiles.]  What  are  you  Gini'ing  about  ? 

Vin  Oh,  nothing  !  But  I  will  go  watch  for  the  porter  who  bring! 
*fce  letter  for  Madame  from  T.I.  de  Valreas.  [Sauntering  up. 

Pau  What  airs  you  put  on.  Let  me  tell  you  if  you  look  that  way, 
'11  inform  Madame  Sartorys. 

Vin  Oh,  no!  you'd  better  inform  M.  Sartorys. 

Pau  Well,  1  will,  if  you  like  that  better.   I  won't  allow  Madame'l 


12  FKOU  FROl 

name  to  be  smiled  at  and  shrugged  at  all  over  the  hou&c  by  you  01 
anybody  else. 

Baron  [Dropping  hook."]  Bravo!  That's  right!  [7b  VINCENT.]  Nuw 
you  go  and  grin  somewhere  else  about  the  house,  will  you? 

Vin  Certainly,  if  Monsieur  wishes  it,  with  pleasure. 
[Exit*  c. ,  with  final  smile  at  PAULINE  who  turn*  away  imputientfy,  and  he  go* 
off  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

Pau  I  beg  pardon,  Baron. 

Baron  What  for?  For  defending  your  mistress if  Don't,  you  aie 
right.  My  wife's  maid  does  the  same  thing.  I  like  to  hear  her. 

Pau  My  mistress  does  nothing  to  require  defense. 

Baron  That's  right.     I  like  to  hear  it. 

Pau  [Becoming  excited.]  Madame  is  everything  that's  good — but  thes« 
•elf-sufficient  valets  they  think  they  see  more  than  any  o»e  elee. 

Baron  So  they  do — but  they  don' t. 

Piu  [More  excited.}  No,  indeed — for  there's  nothing  to  see. 

Baron  Of  course  not. 

Pau  [Quite  warmly.]  What  is  there  in  Madame' s  receiving  an 
answer  to  a  letter  ;  if  you  write  a  letter,  it's  natural  to  expect  an 
answer. 

Baron  it  is — it  certainly  is— don't  get  into  a  passion  about  it. 

Pau  I  know  I  came  from  the  country,  but  I  know  my  place  better 
than  to  act  like  this  fellow,  who  is  always  talking  and  shrugging  his 
shoulders  whenever  M.  de  Valreas  comes  here.  What's  it  his  busi 
ness,  I'd  like  to  know.  Suppose  your  servants,  Baron,  should  talk 
to  one  another,  and  smile  and  shrug  their  shoulders  whenever  a 
young  gentleman  came  to  see  your  wife,  and  suppose — 

Baron  [Uneasily.]  No,  don't — don't  suppose  it.  My  servants  never 
smile  except  when  they  get  their  wages,  and  I  have  their  coats  made 
so  tight  that  they  can't  shrug  their  shoulders. 

Pau  Oh,  that's  excellent. 

Baron  Yes,  a  man  must  get  round  his  servants  somehow.  But  let'a 
change  the  subject.  I'm  waiting  here  for  my  wife — she  usually 
comes  here  in  the  morning — that  is,  she  says  she  does. 

Pau  Oh,  yes,  Monsieur.  Sometimes  alone,  and  sometimes  with 
M.  de  Valreas ! 

Baron  [Crossing  L.]  Oh,  hang  dc  Valreas  ! 

Enter  GILBERTE,  R.  c.,  salutes  BARON  who  bows. 

Boron  I  thought  perhaps  my  wife  might  be  here.  She  said  she 
was  ccming.  If  I'm  not  in  the  way — 

Ail  [Coming  down  c.]  By  no  means.    [BARCCJ  goes  up  L.  o.]    Pauline  I 

Pau  [R.  c.]  Yes,  M.idamc. 

Gil  [Low  and  imth  emot.ion.]  The  messenger  has  not  returned? 

Pau  [Low  and  modestly. \  No.  Madame ! 

Gil  That  will  do.  [Exit  PAULINE,  R.  1  K.]  [Coming  down.  Aside.] 
What  will  be  his  answer  ?  To  such  a  letter  there  can  be  but  one  an- 
•wer  ;  that  he  obeys  me,  and  will  leave  Paris  at  once 


FROTI  FKOtJ.  61 

Enter  BAHONES?,  c.  from  L.,  dressed  for  walking  and  in  a  great  Lwrj. 

B'ney  j  71  GILBERT,  without  regarding  BARON.]  Ah,  my  dear!  [Comet 
forward  mth  outstretched  hands.] 

Barm  [Quickly. 1   Ah,  my  dear! 
[  Adf}faicea  towards  her  with    outstretched  hands  ;   she  passe;  him  and  goe»  tn 

GIUJERTK.  who  is  near  L  c.,  and  who  extends  liter  hands  quietly  and  with* 

out  demonstration.     Baron  rubs  his  chin  aiid  goes  over  to  E. 

B'ness  Get  your  bonnet,  my  dear,  and  come  out  with  me,  quickly. 

Gil  [Listlessly.]  Where  t  [Sits  at  table. 

B'ness  Oh,  such  a  sensation !  you  remember  the  account  in  the 
papers  about  the  jealous  husbands  in  the  Rue  du  Petit,  who  came 
aomc  suddenly  the  other  morning,  and  shot  the  other  poor  fellow,  and 
then  escaped  ;  you  remember  the  papers  were  full  of  it.  Well,  the 
house  is  going  to  be  sold  —furniture  and  all — and  every  one  is  going 
there  to  look  at  it ;  not  to  buy  much,  only  a  keepsake  or  so.  You 
must  come  with  me,  we  will  pick  up  something. 

Birou  I  wouldn't  go  there,  my  dear,  if  I  were  you. 

B'ness  [Looking  at  him  through  eye-glass.]  Perhaps  not.  People  with 
bad  consciences  ought  not  to.  You  ain't  afraid  I'll  come  home  sud 
denly  some  morning  and  shoot  you  or  anybody  else,  in  our  house,  are 
you  '! 

Baron  No,  my  dear,  husbands  are  not  generally  shot. 

B'ness  More's  the  pity— they  deserve  it. 

Baron  Oh  !  well,  my  dear,  if  you  do  go  to  this  sale,  and  pick  up 
"  anything  "  as  you  say — 

B'ness  Well? 

Baron  Don't  let  it  be  the  example  of  the  lady  of  the  house. 

[Exits  in  a  pet,  c.  and  L. 

B'ness  Rely  on  that,  dear !  By-by  !  But  come,  my  dear  Gilberte, 
put  on  your  things 

Gil.   [Seriously.]  You  must  go  without  me 

B'ness.   [c]  Why? 

Gil  [Constrainedly.]  I  can  not  go.  But  don't  let  that  hinder  you. 
You  can  go  alone.  [Rises. 

B'ness  [Astonished  crfGiLBERTE's  manner.]  Of  course  I  can.  But  cou»e 
here  a  little  my  dear.  [Using  GILBERTE' s  shoulder  to  turn  herrourtd.]  and 
let  me  look  at  you. 

Gil  [Looking  ai  tier.]  Well  ! 

B'ness  [Drawing  a  long  breath.]  Hem!  I  don't  know  !  Too  senoui 
for  such  a  pretty  face,  much  to  serious. 

Gil  Does  that  make  you  uneasy  ? 

B'ness  Seriousness  is  a  bad  sign  in  a  house  that  is  not  used  to  it. 
And  what  makes  me  really  uneasy,  my  dear,  is  1  think  I  can  divine 
the  cause.  [Significantly . 

Gil  No,  no,  you  can  not,  I  assure  you.  [Quickly. 

B'njss  So  much  the  better,  if  I  am  deceived — and  a  certain  hot 
headed  young  fellow  of  my  acquaintance,  named  Yalreas  has  nothing 
to  do  with  it. 

Oil  [Starting.]  Valreaa? 


64  FHOU  FROTT. 


Hasn't  he  now?    Not  the  least  bit? 
Gil  Well,  yes,  he  is  concerned  — 
B'ness  [Interrupting  her.]  I  thought  so. 

GU  [Quickly.]  But  you  are  deceived  very  much  indeed,  if  you  thiuk 
tbsre  is  anything  serious.  I  can  prove  it  to  you  in  a  few  minutes. 

Enter  VINCENT  with  a  letter,  c.  from  L. 

?»  vhat  the  answer  from  M.  de  Valreas? 
Tin  Yes,  Madame. 

Gil  Ah  !  [Takes  letter  from  VINCENT  and  opens  it  eagerly.  VINCENT  exitt 
tooking  back  and  shrugging  his  shoulders  as  he  goes  off.  GILBERTS  hands  iht 
tetter  to  the  BARONESS.]  There  !  [Crosses  to  sofa  while  BARONESS  reads. 

H'ness  [Heads]   "  Ymi  order  me  to  leave  Paris.     I  go  to-night." 

GU  [Earnestly  and  turning.]  Now  you  see.  [Sitting. 

B'ness  I  see  that  there  is  more  danger  than  I  supposed.  For  hi« 
to  send  such  a  letter  to  you  —  you  must  have  written  to  him. 

[Si'  ting  beside  her. 

Gil  Of  course.     A  letter  in  which  I  ordered  him  to  leave  Paris. 

B'ness  In  which  you  ordered  him  to  ?  Come,  my  dear,  see  what  n 
position  you  are  in  !  You  remember  how  I  laughed  at  first,  when  wt 
had  our  rehearsals,  let  me  see  —  two  months  ago,  at  Valreas  being 
smitten  with  you.  I  thought  it  was  only  play—  an  agreeable  way  of 
passing  the  time  ;  I  never  dreamed  of  your  taking  it  seriously,  for  I 
thought  I  had  to  do  with  a  reasonable  woman,  a  woman  like  myself, 
and  if  any  one  had  suggested  seriously  that  I  should  fall  in  love  with 
another  man  than  my  husband,  it  would  absolutely  look  to  me  as  if, 
after  submitting  to  a  sound  drubbing  for  the  sake  of  duty,  I  had  so 
licited  another  for  the  sake  of  pleasure.  Those  are  my  principles  ;  I 
thought  they  were  yours  too,  fur  who  could  imagine,  that  Valreas,  a 
mere  boy,  a  charming  boy  t  >  be  sure,  but  perfectly  laughable  as  a 
lover,  could  inspire  a  real  sentiment,  and  become  —  well,  I  won't  sa> 
dangerous. 

GU  You  may  say  dangerous.  [SmUing 

B'ness  No  I  won't.     I  don't  want  to  say  it. 

GU  Yes,  dangerous  !  And  I'  in  glad  of  it.  [BARONESS  starts.]  be 
cause  the  knowledge  of  this  danger  th  it  I  run,  is  the  first  serious 
thought  which  ever  entcreJ  :ny  head  ;  [Smilinr/.]  and  when  that  en 
tered,  several  others  equally  serious,  slipped  in  after  it. 

B'ness  [Warningli/  .}  Take  care,  ray  dear! 

Gil  A  number  of  things  to  which  I  never  paid  any  attention,  ujw 
appear  to  me  ta  their  true  light.  Do  ymi  remember  what  you  said  to 
me  the  day  I  told  you  mv  sister  was  coming  to  live  with  us  here  ? 

B'ness  What  did  Is.iy? 

Gil  You  said  —  "  Ah  1  " 

B'ness  Well  that  wasn't  much 

GU  Well,  after  Louise  had  been  installed  here,  I  began  to  perceive 
that  it  was  less  agreeable  to  me  than  I  thought  at  first.  When  I  saw 
her  take  so  gently,  so  aptly,  my  place  beside  my  child,  beside  my 
basbaiu,  ther  $  came  to  me  certain  thoughts,  and  I  recalled  your 
tt  Ah  I"  and  1  >eg,m  to  understand  it. 


FROU  FROU.  86 


ffneas  Perhaprf  tt  would  have  been  better  if  you  t*d  not 
much. 

Gil  [Resolutely.  ]  1  jaw  what  I  ought  to  see,  and  nothing  more  .  but 
I  sha]'  put  a  stop  to  all  this  by  taking  a  decisive  step. 

[Rising  excittdly. 

B'ness  [Alarmed.]   \.  decisive  step  ? 
I     Gil.  [Crossing.]   Fes. 

1     B'ness  [Rising.]  What  step?  you  frighten  me. 

'  Gil  [Excitedly—  returning  and  stopping  c.J  I  am  determined  to  regain 
the  place  I  have  lost  ;  to  commence  to  live  very  differently  from  the 
manner  in  which  I  have  lived  up  to  this  day.  [BAKONESS  smiles  incred 
tilous'y.]  You  don't  believe  that  I  can  ? 

B'ness  Oh,  yes,  I  believe  it. 

Gil  [Crossing  to  sofa.]  Believe  it  or  not,  as  you  please,  I  am  decided. 

[Sii». 

B'ness  [Going  over  to  her.]  A  word  of  advice,  my  dear  Gilberte. 
Drop  your  grand  resolutions.  Don't  become  a  stupid,  jealous  wife  — 
don't  !  Come  with  me—  run  in  debt  —  live  faster  than  ever  —  show 
yourself  at  the  opera  in  a  dress  that  will  draw  every  eye  upon  you  — 
or  better  than  that,  ride  a  velocipede  in  the  Park  !  Do  whatever  you 
like,  but  make  it  something  in  that  line  !  People  will  talk  about  you, 
you  will  get  a  bad  name  perhaps,  and  every  one  will  believe  you  are 
a  gone  case,  but  you  will  be  saved  !  At  the  rate  you  are  driving,  you 
fear  you  will  be  run  away  with  and  dashed  to  pieces  ;  so  you  are 
frightened  and  want  to  jump  out.  If  you  do  you  will  be  destroyed. 
Don't  jump  out  —  on  the  contrary,  whip  up  your  horses,  drive  along 
faster  than  ever,  and  the  husbaad  of  whom  you  are  now  jealous  will 
follow  you,  will  be  jealous  of  you,  and  3^011  will  be  saved.  That's 
wisdom  !  That's  my  advice.  [Rising.]  Will  you  put  on  your  hat,  m/ 
dear,  and  come  with  me  to  see  the  house  where  the  one  poor  devil 
shot  the  other  poor  devil  ? 

Gil  [Plea-antly.]  No. 

B'ness  [Going  up  c]  Well,  you're  wrong.     Good-by,  dear. 

Gil  Good-by  ! 

B'ness  [Returning  ]  Gilberte,  I  beg  of  you  —  if  you  won't  follow  my 
idvice,  listen  to  this,  ut  least.  If  I  were  in  your  place,  I  would  stay 
home  for  forty  eight  hours,  an  1  during  that  time,  I  would  think  of 
nothing,  do  nothing,  but  try  to  become  calm. 

Gil  [Excitedly  rising,  and  crossing  abruptly  to  L.]  I  have  never  ueen 
calmer,  or  more  tranquil. 

£'ness  Oh  !     Then  good-by,  my  dear. 

[Exits  c.  and  L.     GILBERTE  nngs  bell  on  table. 

Enter  PAULINE  L.  1  E. 
Pau  Madame 

Gil  Has  M.  Sartorys  gone  out  yet? 
Pau  I  believe  not. 

Gi!  Say  to  lu'm  I  wish  to  speak  with  him. 

Pat*  Yes,  Madame.  [Eztit  L.  1  m. 

(?v  [Lu..  kii<y  at   VALEEAS'  letter.]    Poor  fellow  !     The  Baroness  wa» 


86  FROU  FROU. 

right ;  who  would  ever  beliovc  that  he  could  become  seriously  in  love  f 
For  he  does  love  me  ;  and  he  leaves  Paris  !  It  is  well.  [Tears  letter 
up  in  little  pieces  and  throws  it  in  fireplace.}  All  is  over  And  uow  we  will 
see  if  my  dear  sister  will  consent  to  yield  to  me  the  place  which  ii 
mine. 

Enter  LOUISE,  R.  IE.,  dressed for thf  tired,  and  putting  on  glovti 

Louise  Good  morning,  Gilberte  ! 
Gil  [a~|  You  are  going  out  ? 

Enter  SARTOR-'S  L.  H. 

Sar  You  wish  to  speak  with  me,  GMberte  ? 

Gil  [Merely  turning  her  liead.]  Yes  1  [To  LOUISE.]  Where  are  you 
going  ? 

Lo  ise  To  Madame  de  Lussy's  ;  she  recommends  the  new  governess 
we  have  engaged  for  Georgie. 

Gil  [Aside  and  bitterly.]    We  have  enf  aged !   [Aloud.]  I  will  go  myself. 

Sar  [Sitting  c.  Laughingly.}  If  yon  jf-Tt  to  Madame  de  Lussy's  I  know 
in  advance  what  will  happen.  Vou  *nH  both  chat  for  an  hour  over 
eorne  new  toilet,  and  never  once  think  nf  the  governess.  Let  Louise  go. 

Gil  [Turning  away  to  the  L.]  Be  it  so. 

Louise  [Upc.  7b  SARTOCYS.]  Don't  forget  that  you  are  to  go  at 
three  o'clock  to  see  about  that  little  j  u^perty  we  wish  to  buy. 

Sar  [Gaily.]  I  shan't  forget,  my  little  man  of  business. 

Gil  [Aside.  \  That  ice  wish  to  buy. 

Louise  Is  that  all?  Yes — let  me  see!  JXM,  that  is  all.  By-by,  Frou 
Krou  !  [Kisses  HTLBERTE,  and  exits  c.  and  L. 

Sar  [His  manner  it  paternal — a  liltle  tai  paternal,  duriny  this  scene.] 
Well,  my  darling !  [Brings  his  chair  down  c.  and  makes  GILBERTS  sit  ona 
ttool  beside  him. 

Gil  [Holding  down  her  head.]  I  wanted  to  \i\]  you — that  is — 

Sar  Is  it  something  very  hard  to  say.  then ." 

Gil  Yes,  very  hard— it  is  something  like  a  "onfession. 

Sar  [Earnestly.]  A  confession? 

Gil  I  was  going  to  accuse  myself— 

Slur  Ah,  I  see  ;  we  have  been  extravagant-  •  rn  have  run  into  debt, 
Frou  Frou  ?  [Patting  her  head. 

Gil  [Impitiently.]  No,  it  is  not  that. 

Sar  Of  what  have  you  to  accuse  yourself  thei  ? 

Gil  Can  you  not  imagine  ?  [SARTORYS  shakes  AM  h\*d.]  Of  having 
been  a  little  frivolous  and  giddy — even  after  our  urnr'age,  even  after 
the  birth  of  little  Georgie— in  fact,  of  having  always  ifcinaiceil  Frou 
Frou,  and  of  not  having  become — 

Sar  Is  that  all  ?  Why  y?u  almost  frightened  me.  T  see  nothing 
very  dreadful  in  all  that. 

Gil  Nothing? 

Sar  Nothing  at  all ! 

Gil  But  some  time  ago  you  spoke  differently.  No,  TfWK^  ]  yon 
dk1  uot  speak,  but  in  place  of  words  your  face,  your  silent*  'tael/ 


FROU  FROU.  S7 

•eerned  to  utter  the  fears  that  troubled  you  then,  and  to  show  me  the 
danger  that  threatened.  [Putting  her  hand  on  his  sltoulder. 

SIT  Yes,  that  was  two  months  ago,  but  since  those  two  months — 

Gil  Since  then — 

Sar  Louise  has  been  here. 

Gil  Louise! 

SJT  All  the  danger  has  disappeared  ;  and  now  if  it  should  please 
Frou  Frou  to  be  more  Frou  Frou  than  ever,  the  harm  would  not  be 
rery  great,  since  in  your  place  Louise  does  everything. 

Gil  And  how  if  I  wished  to  attend  myself  to  those  things  which  my 
sister  takes  such  good  care  of  ? 

SJT  What  an  idea,  now  that  everything  is  working  so  smoothly 
and  safely. 

Gil  You  think  everything  is  safe  ? 

Sar  Look  around  you,  n>y  dear  Gilberte,  and  tell  me  if  you  ever 
saw  a  house  better  governed  than  ours  since  Louise  has  taken  control. 
See  what  care  she  takes  of  Georgie,  and  how  well  she  is  bringing  up 
the  child  ;  and  even  I  mypelf,  have  yon  not  noticed  that  since  Louise 
has  been  here  1  bave  acquired  a  certain  air  of  content? 

Gil  [Earnestly.]  But  if  I  really  wished— if  I  were  really  resolved  to 
become  better  and  wiser,  and  to  govern  myself? 

Sar  Your  zeal  is  too  praiseworthy  not  to  be  encouraged,  and  I  will 
encourage  it  by  all  the  means  in  my  power,  but — 

Gil  But  what  ? 

Sar  But  if,  despite  your  tesolution  and  my  encouragement.  thi» 
ardor  should  die  out.  and  at  the  end  of  a  week,  or  say  a  fortnight, 
my  little  Gilberts  bo'.omes  wearied,  don't  consider  yourself  bound  to 
continue  !  Return  &s  fast  as  you  please  to  your  pleasures,  your  tri 
umphs,  and  your  gaieties  ;  neither  my  face  nor  my  silence  shall  re 
proach  you,  and  I  shall  be  content  to  remain  the  husband  of  the 
prettiest  darling  and  most  adoreJ  "if;tle  wife  in  the  world. 

Gil  [Rising  nni  ^.peaking  quietli/.]  That  appointment  which  was  offered 
you,  and  which  you  refused  on  my  account  ? 

Sar  No,  I  can  not  go  there  now.  Government  might  have  felt  hurt 
at  my  refusal,  but  on  the  contrary,  I  have  been  treated  with  marked 
kindness,  and  I  have  now  in  Paris  a  position  almost  equivalent  to  the 
other.  All's  well  that  ends  well,  and  so  you  see,  you  re.xlly  nave  not 
as  much  to  rfproach  yourself  with  as  you  thought. 

Gil  [I/w',s  at  him  peculiarly  fur  a  t:econd  t/>d  then  goei  to  chair  R.  of  smau 
table.]  VP.P',  I  really  see  is,  that  all  my  beautiful  projects  are  rejected. 

Sir  Oh.  I  give  you  full  credit  for  them. 

Gil  {.Sarcastically.]  Really. 

Sff  [Going  to  her.]  And  I  wish  to  reward  you  fo*  tb<?ro.  That  span 
eS  'jo^es  you  liked  so  much,  and  which  1  thought  so  expensive. 

f>.&  I  don't  want  them  now. 

Sar  [Astonished.]  You  don't  want  them  ? 

Enter  BP.IGATCD,  c.  from  i» 

Bng  Good  -r^Taina,  daughter. 
Sar  Ah.  M.  ?r&.ri> 


451881 


M  FROU  FROU. 

Btlg  Good  morning,  my  dear  boy. 

Sar  You  .have  come  just  in  time.  Gilberte  is  a  little  nerroua,  and 
you  know  how  to  put  her  iu  good  humor. 

Brig  [71.  GILBERTS.]  Nervous!     Now  really. 

Gil  Good  morning,  father. 

Brig  Oh.  it  won't  last !  You  must  do  me  a  particular  favor  daugh 
ter.  The  other  day  when  you  were  skating  in  the  Park,  you  wore  a 
uew  kind  of  cap — and  Madame  do  Laurens,  who  sawycu  in  it,  wanta 
one  just  like  it.  I  promised  to  get  the  pattern  for  her  !  I  knew  yoa 
wouldn't  refuse  me,  your  father,  and  so  I  promised  her. 

[GILBERTS  rings  bell  on  table. 
You  really  will  ? 

Gil  I  will  give  orders  to  have  it  brought  to  you. 

Brig  That's  an  angel. 

Enter  PAULINB,  L.  1  E.     GILBERTE  whispers  to  her.     BRIGARD  takes  SAR- 
I-JRYS  down  R.  i£.  corner. 

Brig  [Aside  to  SARTORYS.]  Hum!  my  boy,  don't  mention  Madame 
de  Laurens  or  the  cap,  to  any  one  outside.  I'll  do  as  much  for  you. 

[Pokes  him  in  the  side. 

Sar  [Gravely.]  As  you  wish. 
[They  go  up.    PAULINE  exits  L.  1  E.  GII.BERTE  rrosses  to  sofa  R.,  and  sits. 

Sar  [To  BRIQARD.]  I'll  leave  you  with  Gilberte.  do  try  and  restore 
her  spirits.  I  don't  know  what  it  is  affects  her  to-day. 

Brig  All  right,  ray  dear  br>y. 

[Goes  to  m  mtel  L.,  a:id  arranges  his  hair  before  glass. 

Sar  [To  GILBERTE.]  So  thit  span  of  horses  ? 

Gil  No.  no  !    How  many  times  must  I  tell  you? 

Sar  [Smiling  gaily.}  Well,  then,  yo.i  know  I  um  a  positive  man,  and 
whether  you  want  them  or  njt,  you  shall  have  them. 

[Goe*  to  R?tinARD  c. ,  and  whispers. 

Brig  She  won't  have  a  span?  then  give  her  a  four-in-hand. 

SARTOUYS  exits  c  and  L.  laughing. 

Gil  [/iwcfo,  feeling.]  When  I  want  to  come  back  to  him  and  be 
really  ant.'  v.ruly  his  wife,  that  Ls  how  he  treats  me. 

Brig  [Creating  to  piano  ]  Do  you  know,  my  love,  your  husband  is  a 
very  nice  fe'iow  ? 

Gil  After  ai\  he  is  right.  Louise  is  here.  I  am  not  needed  any 
more  !  He  si-oaks  to  me  as  if  I  were  a  cliild. 

Briij  [T)UKhn^' the  piano]  Very  nice  fellow !  Very  nice!  [GILBERT! 
bursts  into  tears.  Rising  in  iistonishment  and  coming  round  to  her.~\  What, 
tears?  What  dvvjs  this  mean,  Gilberte? 

Gil  [Turning  fn\n  him.  \  Nothing,  father,  nothing ! 

Brig  Nothing  unions  has  happened,  I  hope  !  And  even  if  it  be, 
Am  I  not  here,  I,  VN  ar  father  ? 

Gil  [Bitterly.]  Oh    jes  ! 

Brig  "Oh,  yes!"  What  do  you  mean  by  "Oh.  yes?"  I  know 
that  now  and  tlien  1  \\ay  secui  to  bo  a  little — and  then  my  hair  isn't 
— ccifound  it  but  ti».  doesn't  prevnt  my  being  your  father  after  all. 


FBOD  FROU.  88 

Enter  PAULINE,  L.  1  E.,  with  cap. 

And  as  your  father,  I — 

Pan  Is  this  what  you  wished,  Madame  ? 

Gil  What's  that?  Yes  that's  it.  [Takes  it,  and  funds  it  to  hrr  father, 
and  hand  holding  handkerclticf  to  her  eyes.]  That  is  what  you  askoJ  for  f 

Brig  [Taking  the  cap,  but  embarrassed  ]  Being  your  father  as  I  said — 
yes.  [Looking  at  cap  ]  That's  it !  Being  your  father  as  I  said — 

Gil  Well,  what  more  do  you  wish  ? 

Brig  Nothing,  but — 

Gil  [Smiling  in  spile  of  her  set1'.]  But  what  ? 

Brig  Well,  that' s  not  the  point  now.  [Giving  cap  to  PAULINE.  ]  HaT« 
this  taken  to  my  carriage.  [Exit  PAULINE,  c.  and  L.]  Deuce  take  mo, 
it  shan't  be  said  I  haven't  done  my  duty  ouce  in  my  life  !  Come  now, 
daughter,  tell  me  why  you  were  crying  a  while  ago. 

Gil  For  nothing,  father. 

Brig  For  nothing  ? 

GU  Yes,  you  know  there  are  times  when  we  feel  so.  [Sits  c. 

Brig  Yes,  there  are  moments  !  I  feel  that  way  myself  sometimes. 
But  tell  me  ;  there  is  something  serious  in  all  this,  and  the  affection 
I  have  for  you — you  don't  doubt  my  affection  I  hope,  and  if  you  have 
need  of  a  protector,  you  wouldn't  hesitate  to  fly  to  my  paternal  ;  eh  ? 
And  those  tears — your  nerves  ;  eh  ?  Oh,  yes,  that's  it,  nerves  !  I 
was  sure  of  it !  Just  my  way  !  We  needn't  worry  any  more  about 
it.  And  now,  let's  speak  of  Louise  ;  I  might  as  well  attend  to  her 
case,  now  that  I  am  started  on  family  topics.  [Sits  beside  GILBERTS. 

GU  [Quickly.]  Louise  ! 

Brig  [Being  uncomfortable  in  chair  C. ,  goes  to  R.  and  sits  in  arm-chair.] 
Yes,  Monsieur  de  Villaroel  comes  here  pretty  often,  don't  he?  I  may 
say  very  often. 

Gil  [Smiling.]  Well,  yes. 

Brig  And  you  never  suspected? 

Gil  What  could  I  have  suspected  ? 

Brig  Well,  I  didn't  suspect  either.  L  have  two  daughters,  and  1 
should  once  in  a  while  suppose  that  once  in  a  while  some  one  might 
fall  in  love  with  one  as  well  as  the  other.  And  that's  exactly  what 
has  occurred.  T  have  just  received  a  visit  from  M.  de  Villaroel,  anil 
the  reason  why  he  called  here  so  often  was— Louise. 

Gil  For  Louise  ?   He  proposed  for  her  ?  [Rises  and  goes  to  BRIGAHD. 

Brig  Yes,  he  loves  her,  and  asks  her  hand. 

Gil  [Sitting  on  BRIGARD'S  knee.]  Oh,  you  clear,  good  papa  !  you  can't 
imagine  how  happy  this  news  has  made  me.  There  can  be  no  reason 
for  refusing  such  an  offer.  Have  you  spokon  to  Louise  yet.' 

Brig  No,  not  yet.  I  would  have  done  so  had  she  been  here — and 
most  likely  she  would  have  answered  me  as  she  has  always  done— 
that  she  don't  want  to  marry. 

GU  [Rising  andjlrml//.]  She  must  not  answer  that  now. 

Brig  No,  certainly  not.  She  must  not !  Strange  woman  your  sis 
ter — eh  ?  How  she  dislikes  going  into  society;  and  her  detenninatio» 


10  FROU  FftOU. 

not  t<  tnany.     Do  you  know  what  I  think.  Gilberte?    Louise  mrut 
have  loved  some  one  once. 

Gil  [Deeply  mwed  and  turning  away.  ]  You  think  so  ? 

Brig  She  mu-t  once  have  dreamed  of  a  happiness  of  which  we  know 
nothing,  and  which  she  has  lost. 

Gil  [Turninj  sud/e::ly.]   Father! 

Brig  [Rising  abruptly  and  looking  at  his  watch.]  Well,  just  turn  it  over 
<h  your  mind  and  sec  if  it  doesn't  seem  prohable. 

[Goes  to  glass,  takes  his  hat  up  and  arranges  hit  hair. 

Gil  But,  father —  [Follows  him  to  c. 

Brig  You  can  easily  find  out  all  about  it.  Between  women,  espe 
cially  betr.-een  sisters,  things  may  be  said  which — there,  there 
you  must  question  her.  Say  to  her,  too,  that  M.  de  Vallaroel  is  a 
charming  gentleman,  high  estate,  plenty  of  money,  no  vices— and 
ih'.'  must  positively  consent  to  marry  him. 

Gil  [Resolutely.]  Oh,  as  for  that !  [Shaking  her  head  with  determination. 

Brig  You  will  do  all  you  can  to  make  her  consent? 

Gil  [Firmly.]  Yes,  everything  in  the  world — and  she  shall  consent. 

Jirig  [c.]  Well,  that's  fixed.  Since  you  take  it  in  hand  there's  no 
need  of  my  bothering  about  it.  [GILBERTE  smiles.']  There,  ym  are 
smilincr  again  !  It  does  me  good  to  see  that !  But  when  I  see  you  cry 
as  you  did  a  little  while  ago — I  feel — there,  there  !  you  must  not  be 
unhappy,  Gilberte!  you  must  not!  Do  you  know  that  if  you  took  it 
Into  your  head  to  be  unhappy  I  should  be  an  abominable  father  ?  But 
you  won't,  will  you  ?  [One  arm  around  her  waist  while  he  arranges  his  shirt 
bosom  wiih  the  <>:?>&•.]  You  love  your  paternal  parent  too  much!  You 
will  be  happy,  if  not  for  your  own  sake,  at  least  for  your  dear  father's 
sake.  [Kissing  her.]  Yt-u  promise  me,  don't  you?  Good-by.  Don't 
forget  to  talk  to  your  sister  as  soon  as  she  comes  in.  [About  to  go.]  Ah, 
what  did  I  do  with  that  cap  ?  Oh,  I  remember,  it's  in  my  carriage. 
Tah,  tan,  Frou  Frou  !  [Exits  c.  and  L. 

Gil  [Solm  c]  She  will  not  refuse  this  time  !  She  can  not  rofuse ! 
But  if  she  should  ?  If  she  will  not  leave  us— if  she  will  still  remain 
between  me  and  my  happiness  ?  What  shall  I  do  then  f  Who  will 
save  me  from  the  wretchedness,  the  fate,  to  which  they  drive  me.  I 
have  no  husband,  no  father,  to  whom  I  can  turn  !  Ah  !  my  child, 
my  child  is  left  me.  He  is  there  and  near  him  I  can  be  strong 

Enter  VINCENT,  c.  from  L. 

Gil  What  is  it? 

If  in  {Smiling  meaningly.]  Monsieur  de  Valreas — [GILBERTS  Jtarfc.]  He 
desires  to  know  if  Madame — 

Gil  Valreas  I  will  not —  [Sees  VINCENT  smile  and  look  at  her  in  a  manner 
of  peculiar  inquiry.]  Show  in  M.  de  Valreas,  and  tell  Pauline  to  dresi 
Georgie  immediately  and  bring  him  to  me  :  I  will  take  him  out  for  a 
walk. 

Enter  VALREAS  c.  from  L.     VINCENT  exits,  c.  and  L.     GILBERTS  turru 
harshly  to  VALBEAS,  who  comes  forward  a  single  step. 

Do  you  know  why  I  consent  to  receive  you  ?     Because  that  servant 


FROU  FROU.  41 

Stood  there  and  seemed  to  question  why  I  close  my  doors  against  j  on. 
Val  {An  tirnf  tncs*.]  1  have  but  a  few  words  to  say. 

Gil  So  much  the  better,  for  I  have  but  a  few  moments  to  spare. 
[Pautea.]  Why  have  you  come  here  after  that  letter  which  I  wrote 
fou?    Could  you  not  understand  that  we  must  meet  no  more? 
Val  In  that  letter  you  ordered  me  to  leave  Paris. 

Gil  Well? 

Val  1  leave  to-night.     Did  I  not  tell  you  so? 

Gil  [More  harshly.]  I  know  very  well  you  told  me  so,  but  what  proof 
have  I ? 

Val  You  have  no  right  to  doubt  me.  To  you  I  never  spoke  any 
thing  bnt  the  truth. 

Gil  [Srftening.]  Very  well— you  will  go.     I  wish  it.     You  should 
have  gone  without  trying  to  see  me. 
Val  I  could  not. 

Gil  (Harshly  <igain.]  You  could  not  ? 

Val  You  must  not  ask  too  much  ?  Think  of  what  I  was,  and  what 
I  am.  Who  would  recognize  me  ?  I  would  have  laughed  at  any  one 
who  would  have  predicted  that  1 — one  day,  would  feel  as  I  felt  after 
reading  your  letter.  At  first  I  thought  I  would  be  strong— leave  Paris 
without  seeing,  without  speaking  to  you. 

Gil  That  is  what  you  should  have  done. 

Val  I  did  not  have  the  courage.  After  a  few  moments  this  enthu 
siasm  left  me — I  could  think  of  but  one  thing — That  I  was  to  be  sep 
arated  from  you  ;  it  overcame  me  !  I  thought  that  if  you  had  the 
right  to  ask  such  a  sacrifice  of  me,  I  had  the  right  to  ask  of  you  a 
few  words  at  p  irting  ;  a  few  words  that  would  give  me  strength  to 
obey  you. 

Gil  Well,  I— 

Enter  PAULINE,  L.  1  E. 

Pan  Madame — 

Gil  [With  a  joj/ful  cry.]  Ah.  Georgie  !     Bring  him  to  me  at  once. 

Pan  But,  Madame — 

Gil  [To  VALREAS,  interrupting  PAULINE.]  I  have  no  time  to  spare.  I 
am  going  out ;  you  understand,  T  am  going  out  with  my  son. 

Pau  Mas'er  Georiie  is  not  here,  Madame. 

Gil  [Aghast.]  Not  here? 

Pau  No,  Madame.  Mademoiselle  Louise  took  him  with  hei  when 
she  \?  tnt  out. 

Gil  [Violently.]  Louise!  [Trying  to  calm  herself '.]  Very  well,  Pauline- 
since  MiJcmoiselle  Louise  has  taken  him  out,  that  will  do.      [Exit 
PAOLJXE.  L.  1  E      GILBEUTE  sinks  into  a  chair,  L.]  Not  even  my  child  U 
left.     She  has  taken  from  me  everything. 

Val  \_Trembling  and  coming  a  step  toward  her.]  Gilberte  ! 

Gil  {Turning pleadingly  to  him.]  Oh,  you  will  go,  will  you  not?  Yi»u 
must  go  now,  more  than  ever.  Swear  to  me  you  will  go.  You 
know  that  1  do  not  love  you,  that  I  will  never  love  you.  You  should 
know  it — and  you  love  ire  ;  that  is  why  you  must  fly  me  !  Under 
stand  me  well  ;  if  I  were  frivolous,  coquettish,  as  they  have  Paid,  nml 
bad  at  heart,  I  would  keep  you  near  m»  to  laugh  at  your  sufferings ' 


*2  FROU  FKOU. 


Many  women  woulJ  do  this,  but  T  will  not.     You  will  gc---you  will 
forget  me  —  you  must  —  [VALREAS  turns  from  her.]  but  not  too  quickly. 

Val  ['J'ltrniny  and  tikiny  her  hand.]  Oh,  Gilberte  !  Gilberte  ! 

Gil  {Withdrawing  Iter  hand.]  To-night!     You  will  depart  to-uight! 

Enter  SARTOR  YS,  c.from  L.    VALREAS  faces  him.      GILBERTE  turns  away 

Sar  You  bere.  my  dear  Paul  ?    They  did  not  tell  me. 

Gil  M.  de  Valreas  comes  to  make  his  adieux.  He  leaves  Paris 
to-night. 

Sar  Not  for  long,  I  hope.  Paris  will  not  be  consoled.  [Offering  hit 
hand.]  Hope  to  see  you  back  soon.  [Grosses  to  arm-chair  near  L. 

Val  Thanks.   [Bowing  to  GILBERTE  ]  Madame  ! 

Gil  [c.]  Farewell.  [Exit  VALRKAS  c.  and  L.]  I  have  done  my  duty, 
let  me  see  if  the  others  will  do  theirs.  {Aside. 

Sar  [In  chair  L.]  Well,  my  dear  Gilberte,  did  your  father  succeed 
in  enlivening  you  a  little  ? 

Gil  [Going  up  and  towards  R.]  What  my  father  said  tome  was  not 
precisely  of  a  nature  to  —  [Ijtans  over  the  lack  of  SARTORYS'  chair,  and  as 
he  looks  up  at  her,  site  looks  him  full  in  the  face,  and  says.]  Louise  is  about 
to  leave  us. 

Sar  [Starting  abruptly.]  What?  [Pause. 

Gil  [Coldly.]  M.  de  Villaroel  has  asked  her  hand  in  marriage,  and 
she  will  become  his  wife. 

Sar  [  Very  quickly.]  It  is  impossible. 

Gil  [Coldly.]  What  do  you  mean  ?  A  moment  ago  you  made  a 
strange  movement,  and  now  you  have  uttered  a  still  stranger  remark. 

Sar  [Recovering]  I  acknowledge,  that  at  first  I  could  not  avoid  a 
feeling  of  selfishness  ;  I  was  so  sure  Louise  would  never  leave  us.  But 
I  was  in  the  wrong,  and  I  regret  it. 

Gil  Then  you  will  speak  to  her  when  she  comes  in? 

Sar  [Quickly]  Speak  to  her  ?    Then  nothing  is  decided  yet? 

Gil  No.     Louise  as  yet  knows  nothing. 

Sar  Does  it  not  seem  to  you  that  you  would  be  better  able  to  — 

Gil  [c.]  I.'  What  have  1  to  do  with  serious  things  ?  Do  I  under 
stand  them,  I,  Frou  Frou  ?  Now  if  it  were  to  talk  about  a  new 
toilette  with  Madame  de  Lussy.  [Throws  herself  into  sofa  and  doublet 
herself  up  like  a  little  girl  in  a  pet.]  I  will  not  speak  to  her.  You  must 
do  it  ;  and  if  I  have  any  advice  to  give  you,  it  is—  speak  to  her  so 
that  you  will  decide  her  to  go.  [Markedly  spoken. 

Sar  [Astoidshed  at  her  tone.]  How  ! 

Enter  LOUISE,  c.  from  L.     GILBKRTE  during  t!ie  enduing  s^ne  is  immovable, 

except  now  an  i  then  to  look  at  LOUISE.     LOUISE,  as  she  niters,  lakes  chair  0. 

and  commences  to  take  off  her  hat,  gloves.  &c 

Ismisg  I  have  saen  Madame  de  Lussy,  rnd  I  hive  seen  the  new  gov 
erness.  She  is  a  very  nice  person,  and  will  come  to  us  in  a  few  days. 
[TbSARTOUYS.]  And  you  — 

S"r  [Gravely.']  I  have  seen  about  the  purchase.  Rut  we  have  8om» 
thing  m  ire  serious  to  speak  of  now. 

Ijonisf  More  serious  !    For  me  ? 


FROU  FROU.  41 

Air  Yes.     A  mariage  ! 

Loinw  What  — ngfiin  ? 

Sar  Tnis  time  M.  de  Villaroel.  [Pauae.]  Ah,  you  don't  say  what, 
to  that.  1  notice. 

Louise  Well.  M.  de  Villaroel  is  one  of  the  mr.st  distinguished  meu 
of  the  age.  I  should  of  course  feel  a  little  pride  at  his  asking  for  my 
hand,  and  I  do— and  a  great  deal  of  joy,  too  ! 

Gil  [fii'tres.'ed.']  Ah  ! 

L')i:ise  [Cas'ing  off  her  cloak  or  mantel.  \  Yes,  a  great  deal  of  joy  ; 
for  when  it  is  known  1  have  refused  to  marry  a  man  like  him,  it  v»ill 
be  full}'  understood  that  I  will  marry  no  one,  and  then  I  hope  they 
will  leave  me  alone. 

Sar  You  refuse  .' 

Louise  Certainly  1  refuse.  [Going  near  him  at  table  and  sitting.']  Re 
member,  two  months  ago  I  would  not  come  here,  hut  you  insisted  on 
it.  So  much  the  worse  for  you  ;  for  now  that  I  am  here,  I  mean  to 
stay.  [Laughingly. 

Sar  But  let  us  look  at  it  in  the  proper  light. 

Louise  [Rising  and  speaking  with  enoion.~\  Unless  you  are  displeased 
with  me,  both  of  you  ;  unless  those  duties  which  you  call  wearisome, 
and  which  you  g.ive  into  my  charge,  have  not  been  well  performed — 
Unless  you  tell  me  that  in  staying  here  I  am  useless  for  your  comfort 
or  your  happiness  - 

Sar  [Crossing  to  her .]  No,  Louise — but  this  has  nothing  to  do  with 
our  happiness.  It  is  of  yours  I  speak. 

Loui  e  Of  mine  ? 

Sar  Of  yours. 

Loui?e  Then  let  me  stay  with  you  two,  if  you  wish  to  make  me  hap 
py,  because  I  can  not  be  happy  if  I  am  not  here.  Woman's  character, 
to  be  complete,  has  two  sides  ;  one  id  all  youth,  grace  and  pleasure — 
[Indicating  GILCERTK.]  that  is  hers.  The  other,  which  is  all  gravity 
and  busy  employment,  is  the  one  which  pleases  me  the  most.  This 
side,  necessary,  but  ungracious,  which  you  as';ed  of  me  as  a  duty,  I 
now  ask  of  you  as  my  happiness.  Besides,  if  you  should  send  me 
away  now,  I  would  not  go. 

Sar  [Crossing  to  GILBERTE.]  You  hear  what  she  says  ? 

Gil  Yes. 

Sar  You  know  as  well  as  I  that  when  she  makes  up  her  mind,  it  It 
useless.  [Laughs. 

Louise  [Guily.~\  Altogether  useless. 

Sar  [To  GILBFJITE.]  Still,  if  you  would  like  to  try  yourself. 

Gil  [Shortly,  and  putting  her  feet  to  floyr.~\  Yes,  I  will  try. 

Sar  [c.,  to  LOUISE,  and  taking  her  hand.]  I  don't  change  my  opinion, 
my  dear  Louise,  and  I  think  you  ought  to  consent.  But  you  givems 
BO  much  pleasure  by  your  refusal,  that  I  have  not  the  heart  to  insist 
further.  Not  now,  at  least. 

Louise  Not  now,  and  never. 

Sar  [Pressing  her  hands,  and  gtntly.]  You  will  repent  when  the  right 
one  comes 


44  FROU  FROU. 

Jautse  You  know  very  well  that  what  I  say  to-day  I  shall  tej 
always. 

[Ent  SAETOEVS,  L.  1  i:.     Music pp  till  GiLUKnrE  speaks.     LOUISE  goes  up 

towards  c.  to  «r#,  &«/  is  intercepted  by  GILBERTS  who  has  ri^en   and 

passing  behind  the  piano  comes  face  to  face  icith  her. 

Gil  Where  are  you  going  ? 

Louise  To  get  a  book  that  Georgie  asked  me  for ;  it  is  in  your  rocm. 

Gil  [Resolutely.]  Georgie  will  wait  ror  his  book.  [Louise  steps  back 
astonished  at  the  tone  and  liok  of  GILBERTE,  leaving  her  in  o.  LOOISK  L,  0. 
below  GILBERTE.  You  refuse  this  marriage  which  is  offered  you  ? 

lionise  Yes.  I  refuse. 

Gil  [Smilmg  sarcastically.}  And  is  it  that  you  may  continue  to  watch 
over  our  happiness  that  you  do  BO  ? 

Louise  Gilberte !  [Shrinking  back  a  step. 

Gil  [Trying  to  suppress  anger.]  A  worthy  reason.  [Advancing  a  step.] 
And  I  ought  to  thank,  you  for  it.  But  what  I  have  to  blame  you  for 
IB,  that  you  have  not  equally  divided  your  attentions  ia  this  house 
hold  between  my  husband  and  me.  And  for  having  bestowed  them 
more  cheerfully  on  one  than  on  the  other. 

Louise  [Putting  down  things  ]  Sister,  what  do  you  mean  ? 

Gil  [Bitterly.}  That  you  have  lavished  your  care  upon  my  husband, 
upon  my  child,  but  me  you  have  neglected.  And  there  you  were 
wrong,  because,  had  you  looked  around  you,  you  would  have  seen 
that  of  all  the  dangers  which  threaten  this  home  that  you  wished  to 
preserve  so  much,  the  gravest  of  all  might  strike  it  through  me. 

Louise  I  do  not  understand. 

Gil  [Rapidly.]  Do  you  not?  Within  this  hour  M.  de  Valreas  was 
here  at  my  side  swearing  that  he  loved  me.  [LOUISE  starts  in  fear.] 
I  told  him  that  I  loved  him  not. 

Louise  [Breathless.]  Well? 

Gil  It  was  false ;  I  love  him. 

Louise  And  you  confess  it  ? 

Gil  [Sarcastically.]  This,  then,  my  sister,  is  something  which  yon 
did  not  see  with  all  your  care,  and  it  is  what  you  should  have  seen 
before  everything  if  you  had  performed  well  that  duty  which  you 
accepted  at  such  heroic  cost.  [Louise  about  to  speak.  GILBEUTK  waves 
her  to  silence.]  But  I  suppose  that  the  absorbing  attention  you  be 
stowed  on  one  side  hindered  you  from  watching  the  other. 

Louise  [Coldly.]  What  yon  wish  to  tell  me  is  that  you  love  Valreaf 
—is  that  it? 

Gil  Two  months  ago  there  was  no  such  thing ;  but  within  those 
two  months  many  things  have  passed.  That  love  has  had  time  for 
birth  and  growth  !  What  at  first  was  but  a  jest  has  become  a  dangei 
•—a  danger  so  great  that  when  I  saw  you  had  no  thought  of  me,  to 
saving  me,  I  tried  to  save  myself.  My  husbiind,  my  child,  I  tried  to 
return  to  them.  But  my  child  was  no  longer  mine;  you  had  come 
between  us. 

Louise  I  will  go,  Gilberte. 

Gil  You  have  estranged  my  child,  and  for  my  nusliand — 

Louise  Four  husband ! 


FROTJ  FROU.  41 

Gd  When  T  saw  you  just  now  beside  him.  I  recalled  the  past— my 
rispicinns  of  other  times  and  my  suspicions  to-day. 

Louise  Your  suspicions  ? 

Gil  Do  not  force  me  to  say  what  I  do  not  wish. 

Louise  Say  it!  Speak  the  words  which  burn  on  your  lips — that 
»<»nr  years  ago  I  loved  your  husband — is  that  it  ? 

<rtl  You  dare  speak  of  it  ? 

/x>'(Wf  Yes,  I  did  love  him,  but  it  was  you  that  he  loved,  and,  be 
lieving  that  your  happiness  depended  upon  his  love,  I  took  your 
hand  myself,  and  placed  it  in  his,  and  that  nothing  should  hinder 
your  consent  to  that  marriage  I  pretended  to  be  glad,  and  yet,  at 
that  very  moment,  I  sacrificed  my  heart  for  you — for  I  loved  him ! 
I  loved  him ! 

Gil  [Sarcastically.]  And,  by  the  next  day,  I  suppose,  your  love  had 
vanished. 

Louise  Not  so.  I  suffered  long,  and  perhaps  my  sufferings  and 
sacrifice  merited  another  recompense  than  this.  You  have  forgotten 
your  repeated  efforts  to  make  me  come  and  live  with  you,  and  the 
surprise  that  my  refusal  caused  you.  You  have  forgotten  that  I  did 
refuse  to  come. 

Gil  [Sternly.]  But  you  finished  by  consenting. 

Louise  Because  I  had  conquered  myself ;  because  I  was  sure  I  no 
longer  loved  him. 

Gil  [Bitterly.]  Indeed !  Was  it  not  rather  because  you  thought 
the  moment  better  chosen  ? 

Louise  Gilberte,  you  shall  not  speik  to  me  so. 

Gil  [Commandingly .}  It  is  the  truth. 

Louise  Gilberte  !     Sister !     Was  it  not  you  who  wished  me— 

Gil  Ah,  you  knew  well  how  to  make  me  wish  what  you  desired 
most ;  you  are  wise,  my  sister,  and  I  was  but  a  child  in  your  hands. 
You  knew  well  what  you  were  doing  after  you  had  married  us— after 
you  had  sacrificed  yourself  for  us -since  you  knew  one  instant  would 
suffice  for  you  to  regain  all  that  you  boast  you  have  given  me,  since 
now  he  is  yours. 

Louise  [Terrified.]  Gilbert,  I  will  go      I  will  leave  you. 

Gil  Another  sacrifice  still.  No !  It  is  not  you  this  time  who  will 
go. 

Louise  What  mean  you  ? 

Gil  Heaven  is  my  witness  that  I  was  sincere  in  my  effort  to  resist, 
to  defend  myself ;  but  I  am  not  strong  enough  for  a  lifetime  of  such 
efforts. 

Louise  [Motionless  with  horror.]  Whit  are  you  about  to  do? 

Gil  [Going  up  c.  ]  I  acknowledge  that  I  am  conquered  !  Take  my 
place  !  I  give  it  to  you. 

Louise  Where  are  you  going  ? 

Gil  Ask  me  nothing. 

Louise  Gilberte ! 

Gil  [In  o.  doors,  turns  and  faces  LOUISE  and  speaks  furiously.]  Hus 
band,  child,  everything  you  have  taken  from  me !  Keep  them  welli 

[Closes  the  doors. 


40  FROU  FROU 

Lamtf  [Running  to  door  and  beating  against  it.]  Gilberts!     Oilberte  ! 
ACT  DROP. 

ACT    IV. 

SCENE. — The  palace  of  the  Barberini,  at  Venice.  An  ancient  interior.  Tht 
archf.i  balcony  and  columned  entrance  is  seen  at  the  L  ,  occupying  the  ttayt 
to  3d  grooves.  The  entrance  from  the  canals  is  through  the  arch  L.  0.  The 
entrance  and  exit  for  interior  is  L.  1  E.  The  canal,  ani  view  of  Venice 
under  a  full  sunset  light,  is  seen  upon  fie  R.  up  stiye,  and  throitjh  the  bil- 
cony  off  L.  Sittge  down  n.  for  2  entrances.  Garden,  R.  H.  Garden 
tofa,  L.  H.  1  rustic  chiir  L.  of  table,  and  1  up  stage.  ZANETTO  discovered 
leaning  out  of  balcony  L.  c. ,  listening  to  Bircarole,  which  is  being  sung  by 
a  parly  passing  in  go/idol  jai  back.  After  Barcarole,  enter  PAULINE,  L.  IB. 

Pauline  Zanetto !  Ah  !  there  you  are,  as  lazy  as  ever  !  Couv, 
stir  your  idle  Italian  legs.  Madame  wants  you  to  run  to  the  lodgings 
of  the  Count,  and  tell  him  she  will  expect  him  at  tea.  [Seeing  fiat  ht 
doesn't  stir.]  Come,  wake  up — look  lively— run  ! 

Zanetto  Run?  Whoever  saw  Zinettj  run?  It's  not  my  business 
to  run  of  errands. 

Pau  It  isn't  ?    What  is  your  business  then  ? 

2/an  My  business  is  to  carry  with  grace  the  costume  of  the  native 
gondolier  of  sunny  Italy  ;  to  sing  the  national  airs,  and  to  eat,  drink 
and  be  merry,  like  a  true  sunny  Italian.  Nevertheless,  to  oblige 
Madame,  I  will  carry  the  message  to  Monsieur  de  Valreas. 

Pau  I  thought  you  would,  since  he  gives  its  value  in  gold  for  every 
message  you  bring  him. 

Zan  [Cimtng  do;onc.]  Ah  !  we  descendants  of  sunny  Italy  are  very 
poor,  and  the  Count  is  very  liberal.  Not  so  liberal  as  your  lady, 
though.  See  how  beautifully  she  has  fitted  up  this  old  palace. 

Pau  Yes;  and  she's  only  been  here  six  weeks,  to  do  :t  all.  But  it 
cost  her  a  deal  of  m  mey  to  make  your  dirty  old  palace  ^c  to  live  in. 

Zan  Money!  I  believe  you.  AnJ  talking  of  moc<jy  [  falls  paper  out 
of  his  pocket.']  look  at  this. 

Pau  What's  that?  One  of  your  Italian  lovr  grp^rj,  dedicated  to 
me  ?  [  Taking  paper.  ~| 

Zan  No  ;  it's  a  little  bill,  dedicated  to  yeur  'j'Jy.  And  here's 
another  They  amount  to  2000  francs ;  not  nu;rr.  foe  rfruh  a  princess 
as  your  lady,  but  a  fortune  for  us  poor  sons  o'i  '.cjjiy  J.caly. 

Pau  [Taking  bills.]  All  right,  my  sunny  I'dl'm.     And  uow  go. 

Zan  I'll  fly.  [Aside.]  No  doubt  I'll  ir.ef .t  'J*c.  Cor.at  on  the  way 
here.  I  always  do.  And  of  course  he'K  f'ifi  r&  much  for  half  the 
distance  as  the  whole .  \3jnrlerii  off  If.xily  L.  c. 

Pau  Well,  I've  heard  of  romantic  Ita'v,  ?^J  -.ODiantio  Venice  ;  but 
when  they  send  in  their  bills,  where' s  *re  .oruunce?  Ah!  [Looking 
at  bill.]  2,000  there,  and  2.000  here,  vj<J  more  thousands,  again 
[Taking  other  bills  from  pocket.]  make  a  pw,'-ty  tidy  sum  for  somebody  to 
nettle 


FROU  FBOU.  ff 

GILBERTB  enters  from  L.  1  B 

Gil  You  sent  my  message,  Pauline  ? 

Pau  Zanetto  has  just  gone,  Madame.  [PAULINE  hides  bills  helrindher.] 
1  must  speak  to  her  of  these  things,  some  time. 

Gil  What  are  you  hiding  there  ?    What  papers  are  those  ? 

Pau  Me!  oh!  these — [Looking  at  bills.]  these — these  are—  bills, 
Madame. 

Gil  Bills  ? 

Pau  I  did  not  want  to  worry  you,  Madame  ;  but  the  tradespeople 
have  asked  for  money. 

Gil  Money  ?  Sure  ;  I  had  not  thought  of  that.  Give  them  to  me. 
And  sc  I  am  in  debt.  Don't  be  afraid,  Pauline  ;  they  shall  be  paid 

[Goes  up  to  window. 

Enter  ZANETTO  L.  o. .  with  newspaper  and  a  litter. 

Zan  I  just  got  these  from  the  postman  ;  and  I  thought  I'd  better 
bring  them  in.  [Gives  them  to  PAULINB. 

Pau  [Aside  to  ZANETTO.]  Why  didn't  you  go  with  your  message  to 
Monsieur  Valreas  ? 
[ZANETTO  winks,  points  to  L.  4  B.  ,  and  shows  money  in  his  hand,  and  then 

goes  off,  L.  1  B.     PAULINE  gives  letter  to  GILBERTB,  who  opens  and  reads.] 

Gil  Ah  !  from  the  doctor. 
[Then  leans  her  head  on  her  hand  at  table.  PAULINET?^  piper  on  table. 

Pau  [Timidly,  after  a  pause.']  Pardon,  Madame ! — Madame  said  the 
letter  was  from  the  doctor  ? 

Gil  [Moved  ]  And  you  wish  to  know  what  he  says  ?  Ah  !  kind 
Pauline. 

Pau  Little  Georgie — Madame? 

Gil  He  is  better.     The  news  is  good  ;  very  good. 

Pau  I  am  so  glad,  Madame,  that  the  news  is  good. 

Gil  [Kissing  the  letter.]  Yes  ;  he  is  better  ;  and  [  With  an  effort  to  conceal 
feeling.]  his  father,  who,  for  a  month  past,  was  thought  to  be  in  dan 
ger — is  saved.  That,  too,  is  what  you  wished  to  know,  is  it  not  ? 

Pau  Yes ;  Madame. 

[GILBERTS  buries  her  head  in  her  hands.     PAULINE,  vrith  a  pitying  glance, 
exits  quietly,  L.  1  B.] 

Gil  [After  a  pause.]  One  moment  of  anger,  and  this  is  what  it  hal 
brought  me.  [Rises.]  Well,  it  is  too  late  now. 

Enter  VALREAS,  L.  o 

Val  Gilberte ! 

[Puts  his  hat  on  chair,  and  takes  h'.r  hand,  without  enlhimaim, 
Gil  [Eagerly.]  Valreas! 

Enter  ZATJWTO,  L.  1  B.  ,  with  tea  service,  whi:h  he  places  on  iatiU  E. 

Val  [Taking  off  his  gloves.]  I  am  a  little  Lite. 
Gil  Now  that  you  are  here  ? 
San  Your  excellencies  are  served. 


48  FEOD  FROU. 

Oil  That  will  do.    Go.     [Exit  ZAXETTO,  t.  1  E.]    Come.   [To 
Got*  to  talk  and  begins  to  serve  tea.~\ 

Val  But  you  ought  to  know  the  reason  ;  for  of  course  there  mm  t 
be  a  reason. 

GU  [  Pauses  as  she  pours  out  if.  t.]  A  reason  ? 

Val  Yes  ;  my  mother  Las  been  here  these  three  days. 

Gil  [Sadly.     Lai/ing  down  tet-pot  ]  Ah,  yes  !  I  knew. 

Val  Sitting  at  table.]  You  knew? 

Gil  For  three  days  you  have  come  late,  like  to-day.  It  was  thft 
first  time,  and  you  seemed  strange.  I  could  not  tell  why  ;  and  BO, 
when  you  left  me  yesterday— 

Val  Yesterday? 

GU  [Trying  to  smile.']  Why,  a  vailed  lady  in  a  gondola  followed  a 
young  gentleman  who  stepped  into  another  gondola — nothing  more 
natural,  iu  Venice,  you  know?  And  that  is  how  I  discovered  [Her 
voice  treml:ling.~\  that  your  mother  was  here. 

[Turning  from  him— face  to  front. 

Val  \Ijtamru)  over  table.']  And  you  did  not  speak  to  me  about  her? 

GU  [Huskily.]     1  did  not  dare.    I  was  afraid. 

Val  [Smiling.]  Afraid? 

Gil  Going  to  him.]  Yes  ;  but  I  don't  feel  afraid  now,  for  you  smile, 
and  that  reassures  me. 

Val  But  why  should  you  fear  ? 

Gil  [Sinking  on  stool  beside  him.}  She  hates  me,  does  she  not  ? 

Val  My  mother  loves  me  too  much  to  hate  any  one —        [Stops. 

Gil  [Looting  into  ?;is  face,  and  talcing  his  hands  in  hers.]  Anyone  who 
r  ves  you.  Why  do  you  not  say  it  ? 

Val  [Kindly.]  Any  one  who  loves  me.     There. 

Gil  [tireitldesdy.]  But  sae  would  separate  us? 

Val  She  is  going  to  pass  part  of  the  winter  at  Rome.  She  wanted 
D  e  to  accompany  her  ;  so  she  said. 

Gtl  [Same.]  And  you  ? 

Val  Could  you  doubt  me  ?  My  mother  leaves  to-morrow  ;  and  she 
goes  alone. 

Gil  Alone?  Do  not  the  Baron  and  Baroness  de  Cambri  go  with 
h«r? 

Val  Ah  !  you  know  that  they — 

GU  Yes  ;  I  know  they  are  here.  [Sadly.]  Why  should  I  conceal 
It  ?  I  had  hoped  the  Baroness  would  have  come  to  see  me. 

[Ilangs  her  head. 

Val  [Tenderly.]  Gilberte! 

GU  [  With  warm  emotion,  but  not  loudly.]  What  matters  it  ?  What 
aafctters  if  they  all  turn  from  me,  so  that  you  remain?  All  my  life 
te  In  your  hands,  now.  I  ought  to  remember  that ;  and — and  — [Tears.] 
i  will  b«  happy  so  long  as  you  do  not  forget  me. 

Val  [Fretfully.}  Why  do  you  speak  so?  You  know  that  I  will 
ftrrer  forget — 

GU  [Drushmg  away  her  te-irs.]  Yes  ;  I  know — I  know. 
[Leaves  his  tide  and  return*  to  tib.'e  as  ZAXETTO  enters  uith  dish  of /not, 
which  Replaces  on  table. 


FROU.  41 

Val  Zanetlo.  give  1113  th  ;  newspapers. 

Zan  Here's  the  Figaro,  excellency. 

[HdnJ:  paper,  and  after  fumbling  about  table  for  a  !>it,  and  observing  flat 
nritlifr  speak  while  he  is  present.  ] 

Zan  The  sunny  Italian  is  evidently  not  wanted.          [Exits  L.  1.  i. 
Val  It  feels  like  home  again,   to  read  a   Paris  paper.     Halloa  I 
first  uj.;ht  at  the  Palais  Royale.    Commences  at  8. 

(.Hi  [Smiling.]  We  shan't  be  in  time. 

Val  No  ;  we're  rather  far  ofl,  in  the  first  place — and  then  the  paper 
is  three  days  old. 

Gil  {Rising  and  leaning  over  his  shoulder.'}    And  what  was  the  newi, 
three  Jars  ago  ? 

rral  L< •';  me  see  ;    Isthmus  of  Suez — visit  of  the  Empress   -the  rain 
has  played  the  deuce  with  the  crops.     That's  not  interesting. 

Cil  Not  very.     And  what  jlse  ? 

Val  More  isthmus — more — ah  !  here  are  the  theaters. 

(iil  Ah  !  how  I  used  to  love  them.     What  are  they  playing? 

Val  "  The  Last  Day  of  Happiness,"  urn  !    "  A  Wife's  Honor,"  at 
the  Od"on,  urn  !  '-Patrie,"  at  the  Porte  St.  Martin.     Ah!     [Sighn.] 

Gil  [Trying  to  conceal  her  feelings.]    A  new  opera  by  Verdi,  at  the 
Italiens — 

Val  And  at  the  Gymnase.    Ah  !  Gilberte. 

[Looks  up  from  paper.     Their  eyes  meet. 

Gil  [Hands  on  the  back  of  his  chair.]    Paul.     [Both  remain  silent  for  a 
moment.     The  paper  falls  to  his  feel ;  and  he  speak*  in  a  vaue  grave  and  tad.'] 

Val  What  are  you  thinking  of,  Gilberte? 

Gil  You  are  not  sorry  for  all  this  ? 

Val  Gilberte ! 

Gil  Say  you  are  not  sorry. 

Val  [Throwing  ojf  his  gravity  and  putting  his  arm  about  her  waitt  as  afc 
lands  beside  him  1  Why,  certainly  not? 

Gil  And  you  love  ine  still,  do  you  not  ? 

Enter  PAULINE,  L.  o. 

Well,  what  v  «t,  Pauline  ? 

Pan  Th^  Baron  de  Cambri,  Madame  ;  and  the  Baroness. 
Gil  [  Wtt'ijoy,  and  making  step  towards  door.]  Ah  ! 

[The  BARONESS  enters,  and  the  two  embrace  long  and  lovingly. 
Bar  Yy  darling  child  ! 

GV  {Through  her  tears.}  It  was  so  good  of  you  to  come. 
P'rttss  [Taking  her  towards  sofa,  L.]    At  first  the  Baron  would  not 
come  with  me ;  but  I  ran  away,  and  here  I  am. 

[They  sit  on  sofa,  their  arms  about  each  other : 

Enter  BARON,  L.  c.,  first  putting  in  his  head. 

Baron  Ha  !  I  thought  better  of  it,  and  so  /came. 
Val  Ah  !  my  dear  Cambri.  [Thei/  sJtake  handt. 

Baron  I  say  I  thought  better  of  it.    My  wife  wanted  to  come  alone; 
but  I  always  make  it  a  point,  when  my  wife  wants  to  go  anywhere 


•  FROU  FROU. 

•lone,  to  come  after  her  directly.  It  is  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  physi 
cally,  hut  it  makes  my  mind  easy.  When  yon  are  married,  follow 
my  example.  Motto  for  husbands  :  Be  attentive,  and  you  will  be 
happy. 

Val  You  see,  Madame.  [BAROX  lows  to  GILBERTE. 

B'n'ss  Take  him  away  with  you,  Valreas.    He  is  always  in  the  way. 

Baron  My  love,  that's  my  way.  But  I  say,  Valreas,  [bringing  him 
down  R.  c. ,  and  speakiruj  in  a  low  lone.']  Sartorys  is  here. 

Val  [Starting.]  Sartorys!  [Pause;  that  suppressing  emotion,  and  taking 
RAROX'S  hand.]  I  see.  You  have  permitted  your  wife  to  come  here, 
no  that  if  anything  should  happen.  Gilberte  would  not  be  left  alone. 

Baron  Exactly  ! 
Val  [Aside.]  Poor  Gilberte  ! 

Baron  You  don't  seem  very  happy.  You  must  have  known,  of 
course,  that  he'd  come  some  time.  Human  nature,  you  know ; 
human  nature. 

Val  There  are  some  things  which  we  are  bound  to  expect,  and  yet 
which  seeoi  to  be  always  far  off;  [Smilin:j.]  and  death  is  one  of  them. 

[Goes  towards  ladies. 

Baron  [Aside.]  "  And  death  is  one  of  them."  Any  man  who  talks 
in  such  a  tone  of  voice  as  that,  is  sure  to  be  popped  over  at  the  first 
ghot. 

Val  [To  ladies,  smiling.]  You  have  much  to  say  to  each  other,  I 
suppose  ? 

B'ness  Indeed,  "e  have. 

Val  [Taking  his  hut]  We  will  go,  if  you  like,  and  leave  you  to  chat 
a  little. 

Gil  [Tenderly.]  You  will  return  soon  ? 

Val  Oh,  yes !  The  Baron  will  come  back  after  Madame,  and  I  will 
*etnrn  with  him. 

Barun  [Aside.     Going  up.~\  Yes  ;  if  Sartorys  don't  finish  him. 

B'ness  Don't  be  long. 

Val  Oh,  expect  us  soon.  [Bows,  and  turns  to  BARON,  aside.]  Will 
the  Baroness  tell  her? 

Baron  [Same.]  The  Baroness  don't  know  that  Sartorys  is  here. 

Val  [Returning  to  GILBKRTE,  and  taking  her  hand  over  lack  of  sofa  and 
kissing  it.]  Farewell,  Gilberte.  [With  deep  emotion. 

Gil  Until  we  meet  again  ? 

Val  Until  we  meet  again.  [Exits  L  c. 

Barm  [Aside  and  following  him.}  "Until  we  meet  again."  If  tn«* 
fonng  man  don't  shoot  quicker  than  he  talks,  he's  a  goner. 

[Erits  after  VALREAJ. 

Gil  [To  BARONESS.]  Toll  me  everything.  Everything  that  has  passed. 

B'ncxs  At  Paris? 

Gil  Georgie  !  My  child ! 

B'ness  He  is  much  better.     T  saw  him  in  the  park. 

Gil  You  have  seen  him  ? 

B'nfts  Yes ;  with  his  governess  I  kissed  him  once  for  myself,  and 
I  don't  km».v  how  manv  times  for  you. 


FROU  FROU.  II 

Gd  \PretrinQ  her  hand  silen  ly ,  and  turning  away  for  an  tr^stani.  ]  'I  hanks ! 
thanks  t  And — Louise  ? 

B'ness  She  has  gone  Lac!;  to  her  fatLur's.  She  went  Lack  after  it 
was  certain  that  M.  Sart—  [Checks  herself.}  after  the  doctors  declared 
him  out  of  danger.  She  and  her  father  have  returned  to  the  old 
house  at  Charmarettcs. 

Gd  [Sad!<j.]  Cliai  4.;a;ettcs  !     \_T<>  liertelf  iciL't  a  utiJM  sigh.]    Dome  1 

B'ness  Yes. 

Gil  [After  apause]  And  me  ?     Do  they  speak  of  me  ? 

B'ness  Not  a  word. 

Gil  Am  I  wholly  forgotten  ? 

B'ness  Why,  you  kno\v,  n;y  dear — after  six  weeks!  Of  course,  for 
the  first  fortnight  every  one  had  something  to  say.  But  don't  be 
afraid  ;  every  one  too!<  your  part.  And  when  Sartorys'  lawyer  told 
all  Paris  how  you  had  sent  to  him  the  deeds  conveying  your  entire 
dowry— two  millions,  1  believe —to  little  Georgie— well,  after  that, 
nothing  was  heard  against  3  on.  The  severest  among  our  sex  began 
to  plead  your  cause.  Ah  !  si:ch  courage  is  a  tine  thing,  my  dear, 
and  precious  rare,  too. 

Gil  \In  half  tones.]  Then  I  am  not  overwhelmed  with  reproaches? 

B'ness  Reproaches,  my  dear  !  They  know  that  you  are  happy, 
and  you  are  very  much  envied. 

Gil  [Drooping  her  head.]  Happy  ? 

B'ness  Of  course  you  are  happy  ! 

Gil  Yes  ;  I  am  happy.  [  With  a  sort  of  terror]  What  would  become 
of  me  if  1  were  not '(  [They  rise. 

B'ness  Do  you  know  that  you  have  an  elegant  place — this  old 
palace  ?  [Looking  off.  drowjh  her  glass.}  Delightful  view  !  You  mu»t 
be  happy  here !  How  much  he  must  love  you  !  i  noticed  his  ex 
pression  when  he  left  you,  now.  At  tirst,  I  was  afraid  to  come,  for 
fear  I  should  find  you  miser  ible  ;  but  it's  all  right. 

Gil  Yes  ;  he  loves  me.  Why  did  I  not  marry  him  when — do  you 
know  you  recalled  it  all  when  you  spoke  of  home — a  the  Char- 
Diarettes?  You  remember  five  years  ago? 

B' ness  Yes  ;  I  remember. 

Gil  If  I  had  married  him,  I  would  not  now  be  here. 

B'ness  Ah,  my  child  !    the  old  regret — the  old  sigh  of  the  broken 
heart — "It  might  have  been." 
[Puts  h.r  Itandor,  GiLBEKiES/iead,  kindly  ax  y/ie  buries  her  face  in  her  hands.] 

Enter  PAULINE,  L.  o.,  in  consternation. 

Pau  Madame  !  Madame  ! 

Gil  [Rising  in  alarm.]  What  is  it  ? 

Pau  He  is  here ! 

\  Whispers  in  GILBERTS' s  ear,  and  points  towards  0    door.     GILBERTS  ha{f 
stn/'ij"rs  agnmt  table] 

G     [2b  BARONESS.",  Go — -I  beseech  you. 

H'-ness  Who  is  it  ? 

Gil  [Printing  to  door  L.]  Quick  !  Euter  there.  Do  not  come  till  I 
call  you. 


tt  FROr  FROP 

Pnas  [As  if  comprehending. ~\  Gilberte  !    My  denr  Gilbert*  ! 

Gil  [In  \er  arms.}  You  will  not  leave  me  ?  [With  tone  of  terror,  .ind 
quickly.]  1  may  have  need  of  you.  Promise  me  ! 

B'nesf  I  promise  you.  \_Muntc  till  SAUTOKVS  enters. 

[Kisses  her,  and  exits  L.     GILBERTS  m  Hon.:  I'AUUXE  tn  retire,  who  gees  of 

door   L.       GILBERTF.  stands  c.,  leaning  againvt  tab'e  ;    tier  face  up  *tng* 

toi'-a-^df  SARTORYS.  who  enters  L.  c..  very  pale,  and  frightfvUi/  changrd.'' 

Gil  [As  if  shrinking  from  an  apparition.]  Yon  ? 

Sar  I. 

Gil  I  knew  that  you  had  been  very ,  very  sick;  that  you  were  almost— 

Sar  Yes,  they  told  me  (hat  I  was  so  ill.  I  must  not  hope.  But  yon 
Me  I  &m  not  dead  When  sufficient  of  my  strength  returned  to  me, 
A*  I  h.ul  some  business  to  omciade  with  you,  1  came. 

Gil  feme  business — with  Lie  ? 

Sar  Ycv.,  about — [He  braces  himsjf  cgaimt  back  of  chcir.  GILBERT!? 
goes  krtranfc  him  •  he  recoixr*  himelf  uilh  emotion*}  'Tis  nothing.  I  beg 
your  parilou.  I  am  still  very — very  -my  throat  is  ou  fire — water — I 
can  hardly  speak — 

Gil  Wul2iT  i  [Goes  to  table,  pouri  water  in  one  of  the  glasses,  and  bring* 
to  SARTOr.'iS,  who,  noticing  the  doiibls.  set  on  the  talle.  points  to  them  and 
refuses  to  t-ike  th1.  y.'ass.  GIIBEETE,  in  Itspctrr^  staggers  back  to  table  and  sett 
down  the  glasx  J  Heaven  help  me  ! 

Sar  It  was  aboui  your  dowry. 

Gil  My  dowry  ? 

[^Curning  towards  him  again. 

Sar  Yes.  the  money  wLich  you  have  sent  to  Paris.  You  must  take 
It  back  again.  I  will  not  leave  you  exposed  to — 

Gil  I  have  already  said— I  do  not  need  it ! 

Sar  I  know,  I  know,  but  you  mist. 

Gil  No,  I  will  take  nothing  — 

Sar  Will  you  then  force  me  to  give  you  another  reason.  [GILBERT! 
looks  at  him  with  friglttened  countenance.]  1  do  not  wish  my  aon  ever  to 
touch  one  cent  of  that  money.  I  will  not  have  it,  you  understand? 

Gil  [Sinks  i:;ti  chair  ]  Yes. 

Sar  And  so  that  no  one  else  should  be  compelled  to  tell  you,  1 
have  come  myself ;  and  I  leave  you  this. 

[Lays  large  envelope,  heavily  sealed,  on  table  beside  her  and  takes  one  step 
towards  doer.] 

Gil  You  are  going  ? 

Sar  Yes,  now  that  everything  is  terminated — 

•Til  [With  suddw  recollection.]  Valreas.     You  are  going  to  fight  him  F 

Sar  Ye:i !  Y^.u  c::pectcJ  it,  did  you  not?  And  I  swear  to  you,  If 
1  had  had  the  strength  to  ccmc  sooner  — 

Gil  [c.]  You.  you  fight,  and  for  me?  For  me?  [Hysterical  liugh] 
Frou  Frou  !  Think  of  it — Frou  Frou  meant?  frivolity,  trifles,  di  ^.sea 
What  leurtul  fata,  is  it,  then,  which  throws  me  amongst  things  KO  terri 
ble  as  bloodshed  ;;nd  death.  [lie  starts  toward  door ;  she  ilops  him  by  nm- 
mng  before  end  throwing  herself  at  his  knees,  darpiny  her  hands  before  him.] 
You  shall  not  fight !  What !  a  man  like  you  to  risk  a  prenous  life, 


FROU  FROTL  M 

»nd  for  a  woman  like  me?    [Tearfully.]    There  must  be  some  othel 
way  to  satisfy  your  honor. 

Sar  [Bitterly  ]  My  honor ! 

Gil  The  world,  no  matter  what  you  may  do,  can  never  doubt  youi 
courage ! 

Sar  You  are  mistaken  if  you  believe  it  is  of  my  honor  I  think  now, 
or  that  I  have  troubled  myself  one  instant  with  what  the  world  baa 
thought  of  your  fault  or  what  it  may  thiuk  of  my  vengeance.  I  am 
not  a  husband  who  comes  to  kill  the  lover  of  his  wife  1  I  loved  you 
• — you  have  betrayed  me  because  you  love  another— and  I  shall  try 
to  kill  that  other — that  is  all.  [Goes  toward  door. 

Gil  No,  no,  I  alone  am  guilty.     Crush  me,  but  me  alone. 

[Takes  his  hand —he  tries  to  release  himself. 

Sar  Leave  me. 

Gil  What  vengeance  do  you  want  ?  I  dare  not  speak  of  death  for 
aiyself — I  would  not  have  the  courage  to  die — but  there  are  convents 
— close  by  there  is  one — take  me  there— I  will  go  gladly — let  its 
l<ates  close  upon  me  and  never  again  shall  you  hear  of  the  woman 
^ho  has  offended  you. 

Sar  [S/ill  struggling  to  get  away.]  I  told  you — 

Gil  Is  that  not  enough  ? — Think  of  some  other  punishment — any- 
tLing — but  do  not  condemn  me  to  live  with  the  horrible  thought 
tiuit  a  man  has  died  through  me ! 

Sar  [Trying  to  unclasp  GILBERTS' s  fingers.]  All  this  is  useless 

Gil  Mercy ! 

8ar  No  ! 

Gil  Henri ! 

Sar  Call  me  not ! 

Gil  Do  not  go — I  will  be  your  slave — I  will  love  you ! 

Sor  Wretch! 
\Repidrts  her  ;  she  faints,  still  holding  his  hand;  he  drags  her  a  few  steps,  tlili 

trying  to  open  her  fingers ;  when  he  does,  she  falls  across  a  chair  at  back  ;  SAR- 

TOfM  starts  to  go  out ;  at  back  he  stops,  comes  back,  looks  at  GILBEBTB  a  fea> 

minujs  as  if  demented  and  BARONESS  enters  ;  SARTORYS,  without  saying  a 

word,  points  tc  GILBERTE  and  exits.     Curtain 


ACT    V. 

SCENE.-  -Same  as  Act  '2d,  but  seemingly  neglected ;  no  flowers ;  no  music  on 
piano;  a  lighted  lamp  on  small  table;  doors  closed;  the  picture  of  FB.OU 
F aou,  \vhich  always  stood  on  the  easel,  is  sovered  with  a  white  doth.  Tht 
GOVERNESS  and  GEORGIE  discovered  seated  near  the  tdtte,  R.  Staff!  half 
dark.  Afufic  at  rise  of  curtain. 

Governess  [Redding  from  dory  l,ook.]  "The  brave  voim.,'  prince  at 
last  amvc:l  at  the  gate  of  the  Magician's  castle.  Thij  obstacle  would 
have  arrested  his  course,  since  all  the  art  and  all  the  strength  of  the 
world  could  not  open  a  door  which  enchantment  kept  fast  closed, 


M  FROD  FROtJ. 

had  it  not  been  for  tin.  ri:ig  which  the  Prince  wore  on  nls  nngei  «od 
which  the  fairy  ha'l  given  him  to  protect  him  from  the  evil  powtr  of 
the  magician  Merlin.  By  accMent.  he  placed  th-it  hand  on  the  bins 
of  the  gate.  As  soon  as  the  tdLsman  t  /nche  1  it  it  opened  and  the 
Priuce  continued  his  journey  in  search  of  the  Princess.  After  ha\  ing 
Bought  for  her  for  two  years,  all  the  world  over,  he  at  length  had  the 
happiness  to  find  her  and  conduct  her  home." 

Georgie  And  why  did  the  Prince  seek  for  the  Princess  ? 

Gov  Because  he  loved  her. 

Oeorgie  And  found  her  at  last  ? 

Gw  Didn't  you  hear?     "  After  having  sought  for  her,  all  over  the 
world,  for  two  years,  he  at  length  had  the  happiness — " 

Georgie  [Taking  both  her  hands  between  his.]    Oh,  if  you  only  would— 
but  you  musn't  tell  any  one  ! 

Gov  If  I  only  would  '! — what,  darling  ? 

Gearpie  If  you  only  would — we  two  might  start  now  and  go  hunt 
ing  for  mamma  all  over  the  world. 

[GOVERNESS  kisses  GEORGIK. 

Enter  AJJGELIQUE,  L.  0. 

Ang  Mademoiselle ! 

Goo  [Turning  and  closing  book.]  What  is  it  ? 

Ang  Pauline — Madame' s  old  waiting  maid — 

Gov  [Rising.]  Madame's  old  waiting  maid  ! 

Ang  [GEORGIE  goes  forward,  listening.']    Yes,  she  is  below  and  sayi 
•he  would  like  to  see  Master  Georgie. 

Gov  [Drawing  GEORGIE  to  tier.]  But — 1  don't  know  that  I  can  per 
mit  it 

Ang  Ah !   Mademoiselle — poor  .thing !    She  says  she  will  remain 
but  a  moment. 

Gov  I  really  don't  know  if  I  can  allow — nor  do  I  know  if  I  can 
deny — 

Enter  PAULINE,  o. 

Pau  Mademoiselle,  I  beg  you — !  [ANGELIQCE  exits,  o. 

Georgie  [Running  to  PAULINR.]  It's  Pauline !     Oh,  Pauline  ! 

[PAULINE  stoops  on  her  knees  and  covers  the  child  with  kiute. 
Pau  You  know  me.  Master  Georgie  ? 
Georgie  Yes,  I  know  you  right  away. 
Pau  How  tall  you  have  p;  own,  and  how  pretty  I 
Georgie  I   havun'  t  seen  you  for  such  a  long  time. 
Pau  Yes,  a  long  time    more  than  six  months. 
Georgie  Why  did  you  go  away  'i 
Pau  [Looking  doiL-n.]  Why? 
Qtorgit  And  mamma  ?    Where  is  she  ? 
Pau  [Faltering  ]  Mamma! — Georgie? 

Enter  SABTORYS,  L.  11.     PAULINE  rises  hastily. 

4br  [ To  GOVERNESS.]  Take  Georgie  to  hi1*  room,  Mademr LselU. 

[He  kisst 


FTvOU  FKOTJ.  66 

G<*  \0romsiny  L.]  Mon.,L'ur,  if  I  have  done  wrong. 

Sar  I  do  not  reproach  you. 

{Motions  for  her  to  remove  GEORGIE.  and  the  Go\  KRNESS  exits  L.   1   K    wi*A 
t/te  child. 

Pan  [L.  c.]  I  beg  pardon,  Monsieur! 

Sar  It  is  well.     How  long  have  you  been  in  Paris? 

Pau  Since  yesterday. 

Sar  Are  you  here — alone  ? 

Pau  .No,  Monsieur  ;  Mademoiselle  Louise  is  here  with  M.  Brigard 
and—  [Hesitates. 

Sar  [Moved]  She? 

Pau  [Low  tone,  eyes  on  ground.]  Yes,  Monsieur 

Sar  [Half  mtdibly  ]  Near  me — in  Paris  ! 

Pau  We  were  only  passing  through ;  to-morrow  we  goto  the  South 
— the  doctors  say  it  is  absolutely  necessary. 

Sar  The  doctors  ? 

Pau  Yes.  Monsieur,  we  stopped  here  to  consult  them,  and  I 
thought  that  if  Madame  could  have  news  of  her  child,  it  would  do 
her  more  good  than  all  that  the  doctors  could  say  to  her,  so  I  came 
without  telling  anybody  what  I  was  about. 

Sar  Pauline—  is  she  in  danger  ? 

Pau  Yes.  Monsieur. 

Sar  Not  in  dinger  of  death,  however,  not  in  danger  of  death  ? 

Pau  I  think  not,  Monsieur. 

Sar  You  think  not  ? 

Pau  I  was  more  afraid  of  it  six  months  ago,  the  day  that 
Monsieur —  [Power 

Sar  Speak,  I  beg  of  you,  Pauline. 

Pau  1  thought  Madame  was  lost ;  it  listed  three  days  ;  Madame  de 
Cambri  a:ul  1  nursed  her  the  best  we  could,  but  we  thought  each 
moment  she  would  die.  At  the  end  of  those  three  days,  Madem 
oiselle  Louise  arrived.  Madame  did  net  recognize  her  at  first,  but  at 
last  she  knew  her.  Mademoiselle  Louise  took  her  ia  her  arms  and 
Madame  cried  ;  Mademoiselle  Louise  kept  her  clasped  in  her  arms, 
and  botli  crie.l  without  saying  a  word.  From  that  mo::ient,  my 
lady  begin  to  improve  ;  aftor  a  while  she  was  able  to  travel  and  we 
all  returned  to  Charm  arettes  — 

Sar  And  there  she  contained  to  improve,  did  she  not  ? 

Pau  Yes,  during  the  first  two  months  ;  we  hoped,  yet  she  was  very 
pale,  and  her  smile  was  very  sad.  Ah.  if  you  had  seen  her  so — ana 
with  a  plain  black  dress  now,  which  she  always  wears— she  who  used 
to— 

Sar  Yes,  yes — 

Pau  And  then  Madame  was  always  among  the  poor  und  tending 
the  sick.  At  last,  what  was  inevitable,  happened.  After  having 
passed  eevcrnl  nights  with  a  poor  old  woman— whose  life  she  saved  — 
•he  fell  sic'c  herself  of  the  fnver.  We  called  In  the  phvsicianr-— those 
down  there  sent  us  to  those  up  here-  the  latter  have  decided  what  I 
told  you  a  moment  ago— that  she  must  go  to  the  South — that  thera 
Madame  might  recover. 


FHC  0  FROU. 

•?rr  Yes,  Gilberts,  with  all  ray  soul.  ttutic,. 

Gil  After  pressing  her  hind  to  hrr  tieirt.  as  if  seized  with  a  sudden  pain, 
tn/l  lien,  in  a  j'ore-'toding  voice  ]  Georgie,  my  little  Georgia — bring  him 
to  me- 

£.ir  [Risiiiy  ]  Yes,  I  will  go  for  him. 

G\l  [As  if  fearful  of  dying  before  he  corner.]  Now — now — 

fS  VRTORYS  exits  quickly.  L.  ii.     LOUISE  darts  to  GILBEHTE'S  side. 

'ril  [_f)one''oing  BEIGABD  who  is  Leaning  on  mantle,  back  to  audience,  j  Poor 
fatuer ! 

fr-eni'T  SAifWBYS,  with  GEORGIB,  followed  by  PAULINE,  who  goes  to  back  of 
sofa  by  GILBERTS. 

Gforgie  Matuma !  [BreaJcs  away  from  ids  father  and  runs  to  her. 

Gil  [With  i  iv:ld  'ry,  h^f  rising.]  Georgie  !— my  son  !— my  child  ! 
[She  izkes  the  chili  in,  her  arm?  and  keeps  him  some  minutes. 

Georgie  Y<ri  have  come  back  at  last,  mamma? 

Gil  Yes,  but  not  k.r  a  loug  time,  my  Georgie.  Let  me  kiss  you 
•gain — once  more,  [S'ie  kisses  the  child  repeatedly.]  Louise  !  [ililf 
•lintingfrom  emo'ion,  she  resigns  him.]  He  is  yours.  T  give  him  to  you. 

Louise  [  Who  has  eomt  to  the  front  of  /fie  couch.]  Sister  ! 

Gil  Yes,  to  you  !  [Ibkiny  SAETOHYS'  hanL,  ioho  is  behind  sofa..}  Once 
before — here —I  said  the  same  thing.  Forgive  me—  forgive  me  all. 
Come  close,  both,  and  promise  me,  promise  me !  Ah  ! 

[Uttnd  t'j  heart. 

Sar  You  will  not  die,  my  Gilberte,  you  must  not ! 

[BftlQARDjtatJU  armip  afiout  the  couch. 

Gil  [Looking  on  the  group  aboiu  Ur.]  Not  die  I    when  1  am  80  happy  ? 

Brig  My  daughter ! 

Gil  Do  not  pity  me— be  glad.  i.iy  father  Wliat  !i;id  I  to  expect 
for  my  sin? — to  die  abandoned — fot^aken  !  Instead,  f  die  amid  all 
my  own — who  love  me.  Happy,  so>  uappy  ? 

Sar  [Taking  lier  hand  and  kneeling.]  A  a,  Gilberte.  it  is  not  you  who 
need  forgiveness,  it  is  I. 

Gil  Forgive  you  for — for  what?  For  naving  loved  me  to  wall? 
Ah !  that  has  been  my  misfortune,  all  La*->  loved  me  too  well. 

Lcuise  \Sobbiny.]  Gilberte  ! 

Gil  And  that  is  why  I  die — so  happy,     [fidf-iiiy  I  ick.]     Ah! 

All  \B  lieviny  her  dead.]  Gilberte  ! 

Gil  [Supported  by  SARTORYS  who  pi  ices  his  arm  'ewlerly  about  her  as  sh* 
rais's  her  fieid.]  Louise— when-  are  yon? — Louise!  LOUISE  places  a 
hand  en  GILUERTE'S  without  lifting  her  hearl.]  Jet  me  tel.  you — when  I 
am  dead— d-jck  me  out  as  beautifully  as  in  tne  by-gono  happy  days  - 
no*,  in  this  Mack  robe  Among  my  ball-dresses,  you  will  find  a 
wbHe  one,  you  know,  the  skirt  is  covered  with  little  roses  ;  that  ia 
the  one  I  want;  don't  forget — and  you  will  see  how  handsome  I 
•hall  be 

Sar  Ok  !  Gilberte  !   D;irliug  ! 

Gil  [Sadly  smiltnj — her  eyes  upturne'lto  his.]  You  see- -still  the  eaiat 
—  Frou  Frou— \Growing  insensible.]  Poor  Frou  Frou  ' 


FROTJ  FROU.  W 

•he  ha*  d>ne  to  others?  That  does  not  lessen  tL.  MOM  she  has  dealt 
my  heart.  Why  should  I  forgive  her,  because  of  the  good  she  baa 
done  thuui !  Will  you  go  ask  the  poursho  aiJed.  the  siciv  slic  loaded, 
fcaJ.  tlic  J}'...g  v.-::oni  slu  redeemed  to  curse  her,  because  of  the  harm 
she  has  done  to  me '! 

Laui?e  [1 'leading .~\  She  awaits  your  forgiveness — and  she  is  dying. 

Sar  \L'ilmer,  Imt  resolute.}  You  wish  me  to  utter  a  falsehood — is  that 
It?  Weil  1  will  do  it.  1  can  say  that  I  forgive,  but  it  docs  not  coma 
from  tny  heart.  The  wound  is  too  deep,  (he  sorrow  is  too  great. 

Luui*  [c.]  A  sorrow  greater  than  yours  has  forgiven  her. 

Sar  A  greater  sorrow  than  mine '!    Of  whom  do  you  speak  ? 

Louise  It  is  your  fault  alone  if  I  awaken  somber  memories.  1  spok« 
»f  that  mother — 

Sur  [SiiJdny  into  diair  again.]  Louise  ! 

Louise  Whoso  sou  you  killed. 

Sur  [Struck  with  remorse.  ]  Poor  Valreas ! 

Louise  iShe  saw  Gilberte  dying,  and  Gilberte,  dying,  begged  her  to 
forgive  both  heioeli  tiud  you. 

Sar  An:l  that  mother  forgave? 

Louise  She  forgave. 

Sar  [liitterly.}  Ah  !  you  women,  it  is  your  religion  makes  you  give 
the  lie  to  your  hearts. 

Louise  [Seproacltftdfy. j  Henri ! 

for  [Coldly,  and  crossing.]  Take  thj  child  with  you. 

Sider  BRIGARD  c.     lie  stops.] 

Louise  Father ! 

Sar  [Tarni.ng]  Monsieur! — you  here? 
Brig  She  would  co.ue.     I  could  not  prevent  her. 
Louise   [Excitedly  and  going  toioards  BRIGARD.]  Gilberte  ? 
Brig  Is  there?  [Pointing  off  c.     Exit  LOUISE,  ripidly,  c. 

Brig  [To  SARTORYS.]  You  will  not  refuse  to  see  her?  It  is  only  to 
die  that  she  hay  returned  t~>  thio  tiiat  was  once  her  home.  [Music. 

'liLBERTE  appear,"  at  back  supported  bi/  LOUISE.     Site  comes  forward  a  feu 
steps  and  sinks  art  her  knees.     BRIGARU  takej  a  step  towards  her. 

Gil  [  Waving  BuiGAun  lick.]  Not  you,  my  father,  not  you1 

[SAKVIUYS  springs  fcncard  and  raises  her  in  his  arms. 

Sar  Gilberte!  my  Gilberte  ! 

Gtl  [(jdzin'j  tenderly  at  him  and  in  a  Ino  tone.}  Thank  you,  tbank  you. 
[SARTORYS  supports  her  to  sofa  and  kneels  beside  her.  GILBERTE,  after  look- 
vng  about  her  with  a  childii;h  -mile.]  At  home,  at  home  again. 

Sar  [Tenderly.]  Yes,  at  home,  Gilberte!  at  home,  and  you  shall 
tot  die,  you  shall  always  remain  here ! 

[BIUQARD  and  LOUISE  Inj  mantle,  u 

Gil  [Smiling.]  Always? 

Sar  [Taking  Her  hand.]  Poor  Gilberte  ! 

(J-il  [Gently  pressing  hit  fore/iead  andpufhing  back  his  fiair.~\  Youforgivv 
Be,  do  you  not .- 


FROTT  FttOU. 
Enter  ANOZUQ'JB,  0. 


Any  Monsieur,  Mademoiselle  Louise  is  helow. 

Sar  Louise  ! 

Pau  [Frightened  and  taking  a  step  forward  to  c.]  Ah,  Monsieur,  if  iht 
hits  come  here  thcie  must  be  — 

Sar  R.  c.  Wliat  do  you  mean  ? 

I  au  [L.  c.]  Th.it  Madame  must  be  very  ill. 

HIT  [Pointing  L.  H.]  There  —  there  you  will  lind  Qeorgie.     You  will 
be  able  to  kiss  him  before  you  leave.     That  way  —  go  quickly. 
[PAULINE  crosses  and  exits  L.  1  E.     SAHTORTS  makes  a  sign  to  ANQELIQUK 
who  exits  C.] 

Enter  LOUISE. 

Louise  [In  doorway  c  ,  quickly  ]  Georgia  —  her  child  ! 

•Sar  [Going  a  step  towards  her.]  Louise  ! 

.Louise  You  can  not  refuse  to  let  her  see  her  child  befure  she  dies! 

Sar  [Paralyzed.]  Before  she! 

[Presses  his  hand  to  his  heirt  and  bows  his  head  suddenly  as  if  a  heavy  blott 
Ltd  stricken  him. 

Louise  Yes,  before  she  dies. 

Sar  [Leaning  against  chair.]  Ah  ! 

Lomse  You  do  not  answer  ? 

Sar  He  is  there.  [She  makes  the  step  fur  ward  ;  he  woven  ;  nwlionsher  ; 
t/ie  stops  ;  he  r^ngs  bell  on  table.]  He  will  be  brought  —  you  shall  take 
him  with  you 

Isouise  1  will  take  him  ? 

Sar  [Facing  penetrating  glances  upon  her.]  Is  not  that  what  you  ask  of 
me.' 

Louise  Yes,  that  is  what  I  asked,  bat  I  hoped  you  would  have  re 
plied  differently. 

Sar  What  else  do  you  desire  ? 

Jjouist  I  hoped  that  you  yourself  would  have  taken  Georgie  to  her  ; 
that  you  would  see  her  ;  and  that  one  word  of  forgiveness  — 

Sar  [Starting  back.]  Forgiveness  ! 

Louise  [Going  to  him  supplicatin^iy.]  Henri!  [fie  turns  away]  Sh« 
is  dying. 

Sar  Dying  !  Oh,  Louise  —  if  1  could  !  —  My  heart  is  torn  by  the 
most  terrible  sufferings  that  a  in.in  can  bear  —  but,  if  by  giving  my 
o\vii  life.  I  could  save  hers  —  T  would  not  hesitate  one  moment.  I  do 
not  speak  falsely  when  I  say  that,  but  I  would  lie  if  I  said  that  I  for- 
giye  h«r. 

Louise  Have  you  not  had  your  revenge?  After  that  comes  forgive 
ness  [SAKTORYS  sinks  into  c/tatr,  clenching  hands.]  Has  not  the  expia 
tion  been  terrible  enough  ?  Have  not  her  sufferings— 

f>ar  Her  sufferings!  Look  around  you.  at  the  house-  deuolaJte  1 
The  child  —  deserted.  Look  at  me,  and  tell  me  which  you  think  has 
Buffered  most,  she  or  I  ? 

Leuise  The  good  she  did  to  those  around  hr  r  — 

Sar  [With  intensity,  and  rising.]  What  have  f  benefited  by  the  good 


LIBRARY 


FROTJ  FROU.  69 

[Iff  arm*  ntax—  her  Head  falU — SAUTU^VS  la/,*  Itr  aentlv  down  and 
tabbing  aside,  j 


AT  YALE 

A  Comedy  Drama  of  College  Life  in  Three  Acts 

By    OWEN    DAVIS 


CAST  OF  CHARACTERS 

DICK  SHEELET Yale  '05. 

MR.  CLAYTON  RANDAL Of  New  York. 

JACK  RANDAL His  son,  Yale  '05. 

DAVE  BURLY Substitute  on  Yale  Crew. 

JIM  TUCKER Captain  of  Yale  Crew. 

JIMSEY A  Telegraph  Messenger  Boy. 

CLANCY A  Prize-fighter. 

JOHN  KENNEDY Coach  Yale  Crew. 

FRANK  YOUNG Member  of  Yale  Crew. 

ED.  SCOTT Friend  of  Dick  and  Member  of  Yale 

Crew. 

TOM  HAYNES Member  of  Yale  Crew. 

ROBERT  CROSBY Member  of  Yale  Crew. 

JEPSON Boatman. 

POL 

HARRY  WILSON 

WILL  TAYLOR 

MRS.  RANDAL Jack's  Mother. 

DOROTHY  RANDAL Her  daughter. 

POLLY  BURK A  friend  of  Dorothy. 

MAME  BRADY A  poor  girl. 

SYNOPSIS  OF  SCENES 
ACT  I.— Vanderbilt  Hall,  New  Haven. 

ACT  II.— SCENE  1.— A  Boat  House,  Gales  Ferry. 

SCENE  2. — The  Start.     Gales  Ferry  Quarters. 
SCENE  3. — The  Race.     Thames  River. 

ACT  III. — Exterior  of  Griswold  Hotel,  Eastern  Point.     New  Lon 
don.     The  night  of  the  race. 

A  Comedy  Drama  of  American  College  Life  In  Three  Acts,  by  Owen  Davis. 
This  piece  was  played  with  tremendous  success  all  over  the  United  States  by 
Paul  Gllmore.  Sixteen  males,  four  females,  four  of  the  men  being  unimportant. 
This  Is  a  play  with  a  distinct  college  setting.  In  which  athletics  are  prominent: 
just  the  kind  of  play  that  Is  wanted  by  nearly  every  high  school  and  college  con 
templating  putting  on  a  play  as  part  of  their  commencement  exercises.  There 
are  pretty  college  girls,  freshmen,  a  telegraph  messenger  boy.  coaches,  typical 
college  boys,  members  of  the  crew,  substitutes,  etc.  Any  number  of  males  and 
females  can  be  used  In  the  ensembles.  Plays  a  full  evening. 

PRICE.  25   CENTS 


SEND  FOR   A   NEW  DESCRIPTIVE  CATALOGUE. 


{French's  Standard  Drama  Continued  from  at}  page  of  Cover.) 

VOL.   XI.  I. 

\ 

'()[,.   XLIV. 

VOL.  XLV 

U. 

VOL.  L. 

1  Th«  1'irate's  Leeacv 

345  Dm 

ik;ird'i  Doom 

3il9  Saratoga 

393  Fine  Feather. 

.•  '1  he  Char,  -oal  Burner 

346  Cliii 

-r  Too  La 

e  to  Mend 

3»4  Prompter'.  Box 

-'•  A.lelgitha 

o47  Fifte 

en  yearsof»  Drunk 

371  I.ily  of  Franc* 

3'J5  Iron  Miwler 

4  >.-i,  -r  Vuiiento 

:>4>  N,, 

'horoughhn  (  ar<n 

:>7i  Led  Astray 

396  Engaged 

5  Forest  Rose 

:U3  I'eep 

ci-  Day           [.Life 

373  Henry  V 

:uu  &  Galate* 

6  Duke's  Da.ightw 

360  Ever 

ybody's  Friend 

.,74  Unequal  Mate 

i 

o»3  Leah 

7  Camilla's  Husband 

Gnat 

75  M;u-  ,.r  Dolly' 

>  Delusion 

399  Scrap  of  Paper 

S  I'liru  '.old 

:«i  Kail 

leeii  Mavouruven 

70  Allatoona 

4UU  Lost  in  London 

VOL.  XI.  II. 

•01..  XLV. 

VOL.  XLV 

III. 

VOL.  LI. 

H  Ticket  ot  Ui,v«  Man 

:«3  Nick 

Whiffles 

!,  Arden 

401  Octoroon 

0  !•,«!'«  Revenge 

354  Frui 

s  of  the  Wine  Cup 

:-;-,-  Tinier  the  (iai 

Light 

vjerate.  Spy 

"'Neil  ihe  Great 

35a  iJrui 

kard's  Warning 

,-l  Rochat 

-tier's  Return 

•->  Handy 

356  Tern 

perance  Doctor 

4-  ,4  Kuined  by  Drink 

(  I'u-aleof  the  Islet 

357  Aim 

Dinah 

:>1  Sth.«l 

4U5  Dream. 

4  Fai.chon 

3S8  Wid 

>w  Kreeheart 

3v;  Home 

406  M.  P. 

•'  Little  Barefoot 

359  Frou 

:^3  Daviii  Garrlck 

4U7  War 

)  W  1,1  Iriih  Girl 

Sou  Lone 

Strike 

3S4  Uurs 

408  Birth 

VOL.  Xl.lll. 

t 

'OL.  XLVI. 

Vol..  XLI 

K. 

VOL.  LII. 

7  Pwirl  of  Savoy 

361  Larc 

385  Social  Glass 

409  Nightingale 

-  Dead  Hean 

•<6s  I.u  i 

le 

386  Daniel  Druc« 

410  I'rogres. 

-•  Ton  Nights  in  a  Bar-room 

3ti3  Ra.n 

all's  Thumb 

387  Two  Roses 

411  Play 

l>umbBoyofM»u.-he.t«r 

,1114  Wicl 

ed  World 

3^  Adrienne 

415  Midnight  Charjt 

:  Belphegorthe.Vlounteb'k 

365  Two 

Orphans 

389  The  Bells 

413  ConfidtntUl  Clerk 

-'  Cricket  on  the  Hearth 

366  0.  He 

enliawn 

390  Uncle 

414  Snowball 

i  Printer1.  Devil 

367  'Twi 

vt  Axe  and  Crown 

391  Couruhlp 

415  Our  Regimeni, 

4  .Meg'i  Diversion 

368  Ladj 

ClaiiCarthy 

382  Not  Such  a  FCK 

1 

418  Married  for  Money 

Hamlet  in  Three  AcU 

GuttU  &.  Gulnit 

RENCH'S  INTERNATIONAL  COPYRIGHTED  EDITION 

OF  THE  WORKS  OF  THE  BEST  AUTHORS. 

The  following  very  successful  plays  have  just  been  issued  at  25  cents  per  copy. 

PAIR  OF  SPECTACLE". 

Comedy  1-  S  Acts 

THE"  BALLOON.     Farcical  comedy  In  8  Act.  by  J. 

vi.     »  male,  3  female  characters. 

g                    ' 

characters. 

FOIL'S  PARADISE.      An  < 

rifinx!  play  In  3 

MTS8  CLEOPATRA.     Farce  In  S  Act.  by  ARTHUR 

IVnol,"  Ac.     5  male,  4  female  chara 

tiers.            ** 

SIX    PERSONS       Comedy  Act  by   I.   ZANGWH.L. 

1  male,  1  femaU 

f'  E  STT  VFR  SHIELD.     An  r 
Acts  bv  Svnsf:v  i.i:i\nv,  authi. 
Vind,"  ic.    8  male,  3  female  chara 

ripinfil  comedy  in 
•if  "Sowing'  the 
t-ters. 

FASHIONA8I  E  INTELLIGENCE.    Comedi 
etta  in  1   Act  by  HKECV  FKND.LL.     1  male,  1  female    I 
character. 

EIE  GLASS  OF  FASHION 

An  original  com- 

HrWJ'LAND 

LEGACY.     Comedy  in   I    Act  by 

dy  in  4  Act?  hy  Sv  sn   (.1:1  M>Y.  autlior  ot  "Sowing 

BRAMKIN     THO 

MAS.     -uith  ,r    of    "Charley'i    Aunt." 

Contents  of  Catalogue  which  is 

sent  Free. 

nateur  Drama 

E  veil  in  IT'S  Knterlamment 

New  Jteci  ation  Books 

laUur  Opera. 

K:,iry  and  Home  "lays 

Niii.'i-r  .I,,kt!  and  Stump  Speeches 

tides  Needed  bv  Amateur. 

French  'i  rnstmnes 

Parlur  Ma^ic 

.  ,.f  Scene  Painting 

Trench's  Edit!,,  us 

Parlor  l-'antomimes 

ker'f  Reading  Club 

French's  Italian  Operas 

I'i.ces  of  lleasantry 

ir-H,  Whiskers,  Mustaches,  etc. 

French's  1'nrlor  Comedie* 

Poems  for  Recit-itions 

md  Sets  of  flays 

^'-  lunar,!  ami  Minor  Drama 

I'lrival'-r  Mr..    Character,  only 

'wer  Lytton'e  Plays 

French's  Standard  and  Minor  Drauia. 

R'.iin'l  (James 

Hesque'  Drama. 

bound 

Scenery 

rnt  Cork 

French's  Scene?  for  Amateurs 

Scriptura    and  Historical  Dramas 

bman's  Story 

i;l:,r  Recitals 

sensation  Dis.nas 

nnv:ll  of  Authori 

Grand  Army  Di 

;i  i,-  1  'r-iuias 

arailc  Plavs 

im  tPiir« 

Shadow  Pantnmlma 

ildren*.  Plays 

Guide  to  Select-nit  rlaj-s 

Shakespeare's  Plays  for  Amateurs 

mic  Dramas  for  Male  Characters 

Hints  on  CoslltinrS 

Shakespeare';  Play. 

Home  Pl-ivs  for  Lsidiei 

Stanley's  Dwarfs 

•  •-me  Rook. 

],-!,:,  1'lavi 

Spin.  Gum 

al>e  Hair 

Irving's  I'lays 

Tableaux  Vivants 

:   i.erland  Edition 

.luveni'e  r'l;iv« 

Talm;i  Actor's  Art 

rkey  Dramas 

M:i,,e-l'p  Ii.,,)k 

Temperance  Plavs 

Mn'-e-I.'i.  Box 

Vocal  Mu<ic  ,,f  -hakespeare'*  Plays 

m  'Monologues 

Mock  Trial 

Acting  Edition 

iicutioD,  Rfoiters  and  Speaker! 

v's  Wai  Work. 

Wigi,  etc. 

1:  -pian  Drauias 

New  Pl..ys 

(French's  Minor  Drama  Continued  from  4!!)  page  of  Cover.) 

VOL.  XLI. 

V 

or,,  xi.ii. 

VOL.  XLI1 

I. 

VOL.  XLIV. 

1  Adventures    of   a    Love 

329  As  I. 

Peas 

<M7  Sunset 

145  Wh..'s  To  Win  Him 

"    o?t  Child             [Letter 

niptive  Evidence 

;;;•-  F,.r  Haifa  Mil 

!li,  Which  is  Which 

8  Courtyards 

331  Hapi 

y  Band 

•».i  (•  i,;. 

• 

-147  Cup  of  Tea 

4  Con  and  Box 

14'  i  E-irlv  Bird 

<N  Sarah's  Young  Man 

<i  1'ortv  Winks 

333  Sloi'k 

Trial 

::41   Aluiimi  -'lav 

!4»  Hearts 

«  Wonderful  Woman 

334  My  I 

IncU's  Will 

350  in  Honor  Bound       [Law 

1  (  urlou<  ' 

«S  ll-ii)i 

v    'a-r 

•i:  Rarbar-s 

3S1  Freezing    a    Mother-in 

t  Twe«dMou'«  Tall  Coat    33d  Mj  Turn  Next                  iJ4  Who's  Who 

35;  My  Lord  ir>  Livery 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  26  West  22d  St.,  New  York  City. 

.  and  Explicit  descriptive  Catalogue  Mailed  Kree  on  Request. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


6 
JUL 

MAR  3 


RECEIVED 

LD-URL 

2196! 


MAR  2 1  r 


;.          TV 


1S6£ 


PM 
-1O 


Form  L9-42m-8,'49  (85573)444 


VOL.  IX 

VOI,.  XIX. 

VOL.  XXIX. 

•;n4  p..i. 

'   65  Ten  <  ;  • 

145  Colouibtu 

.!v  Kite 

VOL.  XV 

(16  Pa.l'I 

146  llnrl.-qiiin  Bluebeard 

2-6  Ladies'  Battle 

*7  Two  Gregorlet 
68  Kinp  Charming 

147  l,:uli^  lit  llmne 
:iienim  In  a  Smock 

2-.'7   frt  of  Arting 
•2-J8The  Ladvnf  the  Lions 

•kmakir'j  Hit 

Frock 
149  Oim-dv  and  Tragedy 

M9  The  Rlxtati  of  Man 

•230  Mv  Huinaii'I'- 

71  Married  Rake 

1   jhors  ' 

•-'.•il  Two   Can    Play  at   that 

72  Lovo  ami  Murder 

nian's  (51iost 

Game 

VOL.  X. 

73  Ireland  ami  America 

.iti'rt  'intchman 
VOL.  XX. 

432  Fifrhtiinf  by  Proxy 
VOL.  XXX. 

74  Fr.'ttv  I'iece  of  Buslneu 

'53  MiiVird  llall 

PVmaU 

75  Iri  ,h  lirooin-inakpr 

I'raifw  Revival 

234  Pet  of  the  P.'t 

76  To   fntli   and    Back    for 

;  &  Game 

•>:!5  Fortv  nml  Kin 

Five  1'nunds 

i:  It-man   from   Ire- 

'..:    Pocket- 

77  That  niesstd  Bttbv 

[land 

•  Oal 

ir.s  Viiiif.- 

rintahle   Int'u- 

1     79  ««  i--  '•••Itage 
80  Young  Widow 
(Fr< 

Mr.  -md  M-s.  White 
A  Quiet  Family 
neh's  Minor  Drama  Continued  on  id  page  of  Cat 

SAMUEL  FRENCH    aft  Wert  22<J  Stree*.  New  York  City. 

Mew  and  ExDlIclt  Descrictive  Catalogue  Mailed  Free  on  Reau; 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


